


Wicked Savior

by The_Writing_Gremlin



Series: Wicked Savior Trilogy [1]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood and Violence, Cats, Dark Magic, Everyone Is Gay, Evil Author Day, F/F, F/M, Ghosts, Goddesses, Gods, Horror, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I hate tagging, LGBT, Lesbian, Magical Realism, Monsters, Murder, Mythology - Freeform, Resurrection, Self-Harm, Sex, Suicide Attempt, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Sex, Wendigo, Why Did I Write This?, Witchcraft, Witches, antihero, lovecraftianhorror, salemwitchtrials
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 31,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Writing_Gremlin/pseuds/The_Writing_Gremlin
Summary: Monsters hide in the depths of the modern world.Saoirse Darroch is one of those monsters. She's hunted humanity for hundreds of years exacting her revenge for the Salem Witch Trials.Now with the human world close to impending destruction, the war-torn witch must face her own demons in an attempt to stand against a horror greater than she could have ever imagined.
Relationships: Saoirse Darroch&Guilia, Saoirse Darroch&Keres, Saoirse Darroch/Hera, Saoirse Darroch/Istasha
Series: Wicked Savior Trilogy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585507
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1-Conlaed

"There is blood everywhere and I am lost in it. I breathe blood, not air."

My skin was slick with dark blood. I'm sure I smelled like the ass-end of an old leather boot. But it's not like I gave a damn.

Battles don't end with you smelling like you've just had a good workout. I don't know where the humans got that idea in their stupid little Hollywood films but it's the furthest thing from the truth.

Battles leave you smelling like you just crawled through the sewers for a couple of hundred meters.

I should know. I've been in a hell of a lot of battles.

I trudged through the dark alleyway willing myself to be unnoticed. "Come on", I thought to myself, "don't let the scrawny little humans see you and accuse you of a crime you probably did commit."

I faded into the shadows along the brick walls. No one would see me as long as I didn't make a stupid mistake.

I'd made it almost to my hovel when I heard a soft meow. My head spun, hands heating up reading for battle.

But it was just a ridiculously fluffy black cat who sat on a metal trash bin in front of me. His piercing green eyes seemed to look into the depths of my soul.

I'm sure he saw the deep dark in me. I've accepted that I'm not a good person a long time ago. You can't kill over a thousand people and still be good. You can't be a hate-filled genocidal killer and be good. You just can't. That's not the way the world works.

The cat meowed again. He jumped down from the trashcan lid and slowly strode over to my legs.

He wound in between my feet and rubbed himself all over me. A loud rumble emanated from his body.

He was purring? I've never had a cat before so I've actually never really been around one.

He tilted his face up and mewed. I wasn't really sure of what I was supposed to do.

The cat sighed.

He crouched down and sprang. I wanted to scoot backward but something prevented me. Probably the brick walls of the building to my back.

The cat landed on my bloodstained left shoulder and casually began licking his paws as if he was cleaning them.

When I tried to remove the fuzzy black asshole from my shoulder he just dug his claws in hard. I had to get moving before the humans found the twelve bodies I'd left in an alley six kilometers to the south.

So I just left with him on my shoulder. If the cat didn't want to leave then so be. He's coming with me now.

I melted back into the shadows and walked the last kilometer to the dingy hovel that I called home.

My door opened with its usual crash-bang. The cat was startled off of my shoulder. He landed on my bloody couch. Literally. My couch is literally bloody because I sit on it without taking a shower after I go on hunts. It's probably unsanitary but I don't really give a shit.

I snatched a bottle of whiskey from the floor and flopped onto the couch next to the cat.

"What the hell? I guess I'll keep you. It's not like you're human."

He mewed at me and snuggled under the arm that wasn't holding my whiskey bottle.

"I think I'll name you Conlaed. You're all I have, cat. I'm taking a chance on you and I hope it's worth it."


	2. Chapter 2-Laughing with a mouthful of blood

"Everyone is a monster to someone."

Screams echoed. I smashed my boot into the human male's face. His bones cracked with a crunch that made a tingle of pleasure run up my spine.

He'd assumed that I'd be easy to rape. Just like the rest of his disgusting kind. Too bad for him. That just meant that I had an excuse to be more brutal.

I shifted my focus from his ruined face. His abdomen could use some more holes.

I stood there for a second contemplating how I wanted to go about ending his life. My lips curved up in a smirk when I settled on a plan.

I grabbed the man by the throat and yanked him up. I whispered a quick spell and punched my fist through his solar plexus ignoring the shards of bone that cut into my arm.

His heart pulsed in my hand. I squeezed. Hard.

Blood splattered me.

I dropped his worthless body to the earth and shook the majority of his blood from my hands.

I'd only been trying to enjoy a drink. Couldn't I at least do that in peace? I mean come on man? Really? I just wanted my fucking whiskey.

Now I couldn't even get my drink.

It sounds bad, doesn't it? That I care more about whiskey than a human being? Well, to be fair the humans did cause my death.

Even though I died technically two hundred years ago, I'm still exacting my revenge.

I'm not the only one who holds long grudges. They do the same thing. Take the hundred years war for example.

And all the stupid fucking race issues that the humans keep blathering on about.

Can't they see that they have bigger problems than the color of their skin? At the moment, that's probably the least of their issues. All the creatures that populate their nightmares are real.

The things that go bump in the night are real. They should be worrying about how to defend themselves from the creatures that haunt the dusk like me and not about a pigment that matters little.

A sharp meow tore me from my mental tirade. I looked around. My eyes alighted on Conlaed sitting on the dead man's torn up chest. He meowed again. His teeth were stained with blood.

"You stupid cat! Why did you follow me here?"

He only tilted his head and blinked.

"I don't want to lose you. You're the only good thing I've got."

Conlaed simply leapt from the man's chest to my left shoulder per usual. I don't know why he kept choosing my left shoulder. I guess it was just a good perch for him.

"Well, I guess we'll go home then Conlaed. You're sure a trouble maker aren't you?"

I started running forward at an easy lope. The cat stayed firmly planted on my shoulder.

We continued like that for a while. I had no idea how the cat followed me to the bar. I don't know how he got out of my damn house.

I guess it doesn't fucking matter anymore. He's out here with me anyway.

I only stop when a large warm human hand grasps my wrist hard. I'm spun around to face a large man wearing a loose white shirt and tightly fitted jeans.

Oh, is he a fine specimen of a man. It'll only make it that much more fun to kill him. Maybe I'll actually have a challenge for once.

"Where the fuck is a pretty little girl like you going at this time of night?"

"None of your business asshole,'' I shot back.

"Touchy, touchy aren't we?"

"Shut the fuck up and let me pass."

"Or what?"

"I make you regret being born."

The man slapped thigh and guffawed.

"You think you can take me little girl?"

"I do."

"Very well then," he shrugged.

I lunged forwards slamming my fist into his face. Conlaed lept from my shoulder to watch the fight from the safety of a nearby light post.

The man stumbled backwards clutching at his nose. When he moved his hand I saw blood dripping from his nostrils.

Too bad for him. His fate was sealed.

I mumbled under my breath as I pulled a handful of salt from my bag. The crystals began to grow cutting into the flesh of my hand. I waited until I could feel blood pooling in my palm and then flung the salt at his legs.

He screamed as the enlarged crystals shredded his flesh and bone. He toppled to the ground.

I pulled him up by the collar of his shirt.

"You should never have stopped me human."

"What the hell are you?"

"I'm a motherfucking witch."

His eyes widened in fear. My smile crept slowly onto my face until my teeth were visible. I spoke a word in Keres' language and my teeth turned to sharp points.

"See you in hell, human."

I buried my teeth in his throat and tore. His blood tasted so sweet flowing into my mouth. It had a tang that made me crave more. The taste sent a shiver of pleasure rippling down my spine.

I turned him so that I had better access and began feeding for real.

It might be disgusting to most normal people but I've found that the fresh blood of humans helps my glamour remain intact for longer so that the humans don't figure out what I actually look like.

I really look like a horrifically burnt corpse. The last human to see me as I really am thought that I was a zombie. I honestly don't blame her. I look terrible in my natural form.

That was the one thing Keres couldn't fix. But she got me my revenge so I'm happy.

I just wish that I could see my sisters again. That's not possible though. I'll never be able to see them again. The humans took that from me.

I snapped my fingers at Conlaed beckoning for him to follow me and sure enough he happily trotted after me.

Fortunately, I made it back to my hovel without being accosted by any more humans.

"Maybe I can finally drink my fucking whiskey in peace," I said to Conlaed.

He just meowed back. Of course, he did. He's a cat. He can't talk.

I shuffled over to my mini-fridge that just barely worked and snatched a half-empty bottle of whiskey. I threw the lid in the corner somewhere.

It's not like I'd need it again. I took a long swig. My mind settled itself down. I focused on the slide of alcohol down my throat so that I wouldn't miss my sisters so much.

I've felt empty for a long time. My only purpose has been revenge for almost as long as I can remember. There's only so much killing you can do before it becomes monotonous.

Don't get me wrong. I want my revenge still. But there's something missing from my life.

I try to fill that void with alcohol, cigarettes, and sex but it doesn't work. Honestly, this is the least empty I've felt in a long time. It's mainly because of that little cat. Conlaed. He's made me happier.

Even if I don't show it, I already love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting a lot of this in one day because I had a lot of it written in Wattpad first. Hope you guys are enjoying it!  
> -Lethe


	3. Chapter 3-Three shots fired

_Now, I want to be an abomination._

I can't pretend that my sisters would be proud of what I've become. That would be lying to myself. They would hate me for what I've become. They would hate what I've done. They would consider me an abomination to witch kind.

But it doesn't really matter, does it? Because they're dead and I'm alive.

I'll never be able to die. The spell I cast at death has forced me into a limbo between life and death. I'm stuck in a cycle of death and rebirth that lasts seven years.

Every waking moment is pain. I can feel my body burning up over and over and over again.

My pain only serves to reignite my thirst for vengeance. The humans did this to me and thus they deserve to pay. At this point, I don't care that its empty revenge. Revenge is revenge.

I toss my bottle of vodka into the corner with the rest of my shit. I heard the glass shatter and I can't say that I gave a shit. I know I'm living in squalor.

The only cleanish place in my apartment is Conlaed's little space which used to be my bedroom. I sleep on my couch. I don't mind. Con is the best thing in my life.

My limbs ache. I long for things that I can not have. I long for my sisters. I long for life. I long for death.

I can hunt though. Hunting fulfills the itch for a little while. It makes it not hurt so much.

I need the blood to stay looking human. I need the flesh.

I peeled my sweat-stained bloody body from my couch and stood wearily. Pain sparked through me. I have two more years left in my cycle. The last two years are always hell.

I slowly shrug on my jacket and wrap my hands in strips of cloth so that I wouldn't reirritate my swollen and bleeding knuckles.

It's a painful process to bend down and pull my boots on but I get through it somehow.

I should probably take better care of myself. I'd be a better hunter that way. I guess I'll take better care of myself for Conlaed. He's the best thing in my life right now.

I quietly sneak out of my own house careful to lock the doors so that Conlaed can't follow me like he did last time.

I swear that little cat is a troublemaker. He seems determined to follow me wherever I go. But I can't have that tonight. I don't want him to see what I'm about to do.

The part of me that's still tied to Keres surges. I feel it tug me toward a person. I don't know who the person will be nor do I care. It's not my business to care.

My business is only to kill.

I blindly follow the tugging in my chest. It takes me through the busy streets and over into the rich district.

Damn, this killing might cause some ripples. Depends on who Keres wants dead this time.

My feet begin to pound faster and faster and faster. My lungs heaved as I ran but I still didn't stop. 

My heart began to pound with the thrill of the hunt. Buildings whizzed by.

I knew that the humans would see me. I didn't really give a shit. I've never been this sloppy before. Hopefully, the universe will just cut me some slack and let me get away with being sloppy this one time.

The tugging only gets stronger. I follow the pull in my chest. It leads me to a tall modern-looking building filled with large glass windows. Perfect.

My lips pull upward in a wicked smirk. They'd only make my job ten times easier. I mean what were they really thinking? They're just asking for me to break in and kill them. I mean really? All glass on the first floor? Who does that except a stupid fucking human?

"Ah fuck it", I sighed. Fuck the element of surprise. I'm going to do this the old fashioned way even if it's a dumbass idea.

I steel my nerves and charge at the window whilst flinging three crystals of salt and shouting " _Ag fás!"._

The enlarged salt crystal shattered the window just before I smashed through the shards. I disregarded the small cuts that were forming all over my body.

My body was already a fucking mess. It's not like a few glass cuts are going to make it worse.

The tugging in my chest feels like I'm being stabbed which means I'm really close. I aimed right then for once. Good.

I opened my eyes and casually brushed the glass from my face.

A young woman with sparkling red hair is standing in front of me. She's shockingly beautiful for a human in her charcoal grey pantsuit. Her eyes remind me of Conlaed's but there's something harder in this human's eyes. Something dead. Something that tells me she might deserve this.

Or not. I don't give a shit. The woman just looks at me gaping.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Shut the fuck up and this will go easier for both of us", I snap.

"No."

"What?!"

"I. Said. No."

"Oh for fuck's sake", I sigh and mumble " _Stop análú"._

The woman's hands fly to her neck. I decided to just call her red in my head to save words. I watch her face turn blue and her eyes bulge. I wait until she's not dead but close.

Then I plunge the spike Keres gave me into her heart. I can feel the shudder as she dies.

It's exhilarating. I feel almost alive. Almost like I'm living for something other than my cat that I've only known for two days.

Yeah, my life is fucking pathetic. 


	4. Chapter 4-Of hangovers and heartache

_Mountains, you say,_

_You want to see the mountains again._

_(Do you want to see the battle and the blood and the bodies too?)_

I drag my pain-filled body home. It's a long and painful process that leaves me gasping for breath. I know that I've torn something kind of vital deep within when blood spills from my lips.

I must not have felt the pain in my haste for the blood of humans. Damn it! Getting injured is the last thing I want especially now. I only have two years left in my cycle. My body is fucking falling apart. The pain is worse in the last three years.

It's like being burnt alive for the first time. God, nothing can make me ever forget that. I see it every time I close my eyes. It haunts me.

I let myself slump against the wall of an alleyway kind of close to home. It doesn't matter where I sleep. I do have to get home kind of soon for Conlaed though. I need to feed him. He depends on me.

I try to propel myself the last little stretch to my apartment but my head spins wickedly and I crash back to the earth.

Sighing, I lean back resigning myself to sleeping against a brick wall. I don't even bother to wipe with blood dripping from my lips.

A boot hits me firmly in the ribs. I inhale sharply and my eyes snap open.

A tall pale man is standing above me. He's not human that much I could tell. He was too pale and too powerful looking to be human. I tilted my eyes back down as the light hurt my eyes something fierce.

"What are you? You don't smell human." He queried.

"It's none of your business."

"It is when you're on my territory bitch."

"I didn't know this area was claimed."

"Could you not smell it?"

"'m not a vampire-like you."

"What are you then?"

"I'm a witch,'' I replied, seeing no reason to lie to the vampire who could have killed me while I slept but didn't.

"Where is your coven then?"

"They're all dead."

"Is that why you reek of alcohol and the blood of slain humans?"

"Yes."

He looked at me and then knelt down and placed a cool hand on my forehead.

"Are you hungover or drunk?"

I laughed weakly and replied "Both?"

"Fuck."

"What are you doing?" I asked as he picked me up.

"I'm taking you back to my nest. You're in no condition to be wandering the streets of Boston even if you are a witch."

"Wait!" I cried.

"What?"

"My cat. I need him."

The vampire set me down and raced away. Probably following my scent to my apartment.

He came back a moment later with a purring Conlaed in his arms. That's a good sign. If my cat trusted him then I trust him at least for now.

He set the little cat gently on my lap where he curled up in a little ball seemingly knowing what he needed to do. A moment later I was wrapped up in strong arms.

We moved for a long time. I lost track of the turns we took and the streets we passed.

Eventually, we stopped in front of a large building that loomed dark above us. The man holding me hissed something in a strange language.

The door creaked open. Bright light streamed out. We entered quickly. My eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness.

Conlaed kept purring in his little spot in my lap. We moved for a few minutes longer before I was set down on a cushioned surface.

Conlaed moved off of my stomach and curled up in his usual spot between my shoulder and head.

I was about to let the darkness swallow me but a needle was jabbed into my chest.

My body spasmed and I sucked in a deep breath. My eyes flickered back open.

A short woman wearing an emerald-colored dress was staring back at me. Her eyes were almost a soul searching as Conlaed's. Her skin was the color of my favorite whiskey and her eyes reminded me of the bottomless night.

She made something inside of me curious. Something that made me want more than this empty existence. I quashed the feeling as soon as it rose within me.

I could never be anything but an instrument of vengeance. It's all I'm worth in this cold world. Hopefully, I can give Conlaed a good life though. I love that cat.

I didn't feel the needle the whiskey skinned woman inserted into my skin. I didn't feel her pulling up my ratty tank top until she inhaled sharply.

"What?," I rasped.

"Your torso is badly burnt."

"Yeah, I know."

"But there's no skin left on your torso!"

"I know."

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I was burnt at the stake," I said bluntly.

Both vampires looked shocked.

"How old are you?" asked the man.

"It's not polite to ask a girl's age but since you're helping me, I'm two hundred and eighty-seven."

Their mouths dropped open.

"I thought that witches only had human lifespans."

"Normally we do, but the tale of how I got to be this old is long and sordid. It's also not one I prefer to tell to people whose names I don't even know.

"I'm Makul and that's Thana," said the man.

"My name is Saoirse and this little guy is Conlaed."

"I have ask one thing," interjected Thana, "Why were you drunk and wounded on the streets?"

"I'd just gotten back from a hunt."

"Who'd you kill?"

"I have no idea. She was just a red-haired woman. Just like all the other humans. She was alive and now she is not.

"Did you have to break a large glass wall to get in?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You killed the mayor of Boston."

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Yes, I had no idea who she was and even if I did it wouldn't have mattered. She was next on my list so she had to die."

"Saoirse, tell me this. Why was approximately half of her blood missing if she died from strangulation? Did you mean to implicate a vampire in her murder?"

"To tell you the truth, I had no idea that vampires existed before today. I needed her blood to maintain my glamour and how could I mean to implicate a vampire if I didn't even know you existed. "

"How have you gone this long without encountering any other supernaturals?"

"I keep to myself pretty well."

"Is that cat the only living thing you've had real contact with in the past century?"

"Yes. Is that bad?"

"Humans need touch to be healthy."

"I'm not a fucking human! Don't you fucking dare compare me to them!" My chest heaved as I began to struggle for air. Tears ran unbidden down my face.

Thana backed up. Startled by my outburst, she instinctively hid herself behind Makul.

Makul flashed his fangs at me.

"Calm yourself, witch. She meant no harm to you. Thana did not mean to compare you to the humans. You need to breathe. You can not do anything while you are gasping for air like that."

It took a while but my breathing finally calmed down enough for me to draw enough air to calm my shaking nerves.

"Are you alright?" asked Thana.

"Do I fucking look fine to you?" 


	5. Chapter 5-Cutting my heart out with dull scissors

_I want to die in the most ugly way possible so my death can reflect how I truly am inside._

Tears welled in Thana's dark eyes.

"What happened to you to make you like this?"

"The humans happened. They took everything from me. They took my sisters. They took my hope. They took my life. And do you know what's worst of all? They took my fucking soul!"

Makul sped forward and seized my wrists in an iron grip.

"You need to calm the fuck down before you hurt yourself."

"It doesn't matter anymore," I spat and dropped the glamour.

"Wha..." He sputtered as he stepped back nearly tripping over Thana.

"This is what I really look like."

"How are you still alive?"

"The fucking spell I cast as I died. It's keeping me alive. Even when I don't want to be."

"You want to die?"

"Yes! Is it really that hard to understand? I've lived for hundreds of years alone! Everyone I care about is dead! How would you feel vampire? Hmm?"

"I would feel ...lonely."

"Now you understand partly. Now add to the loneliness an all-consuming desire for revenge. Then you have my feelings."

"How are you still functional?" piped up Thana.

"You assume much of me. It's easier when I drown myself in cheap whiskey. It makes it just a bit easier to breathe. It makes the pain just a little bit more bearable."

"That's not healthy."

I laughed bitterly.

"What about this is healthy? I'm an immortal witch with a penchant for alcohol abuse. What about me says healthy?"

"You've survived this long."

"By being a monster. That's how I survived. I let myself lose all of my humanity. All of my joy. And all of my hope."

"Why are you more a monster than any of us? Yes, you've killed but so have we. We're monsters by nature us vampires."

"Don't assume you know what I have and haven't done. You'll just get yourself hurt that way."

"What could you do that could hurt us?"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that question Thana?"

"Yes." The vampire hissed.

"Fine."

I reached for the part of me that was tied to Keres and tugged hard. Power surged through me. My glamour slid over my ruined body like a second skin.

I knew that my eyes were glowing a burnished gold. _Her_ color. The vampires jumped backward and assumed defensive positions. They were smarter than I thought. But dumber at the same time. If they thought that I would let them live after bearing my soul to them, then well, they were fools of the highest order.

Conlaed slunk from his perch on the chair and lept to my shoulder. My magic lovingly caressed him. The little cat began purring up a storm.

"Saoirse! What the hell are you doing?" screamed Makul.

"You thought I would let you live?"

"Well, yes. We helped you after all."

"I can't let you live. Not after I told you my trouble."

"You don't have to do this."

"I do."  
Thana's eyes widened.

" _Dóigh!"_ I screamed as I reached into my coat pocket and threw a pouch of woad at them.

The pouch exploded showering the vampires in a toxic blue rain.

" _Gortaítear,"_ I said softly.

Sizzling broke out. The vampires began to scream. I pulled Conlaed from my shoulder and cuddled him in my arms.

The little cat is my pride and joy. He's the only good thing about me.

A tiny part of me felt guilty for what I'd done to the vampires who helped me but mostly I just felt relieved that no one besides Conlaed knew of my weaknesses.

Death followed me like a plague. It was, of course, my fault. How could it not be?

I'm the one who let Keres turn me into a monster. But even then she only finished what I started. So I guess in the end the only person that I can blame for what I've become is me. And the humans. They started this when they ended my life.

I suppose that I'll eventually have to face what I've become and what I've done. That day is not today. Hopefully, It won't be for a while.

Some part of me that still wants to be good is horrified by the ugly parts of me. The dark violent parts of me that crave murder and blood.

I've long ago accepted that nothing I do will make me a good person. The time for that has passed. I'm stuck being a monster for the rest of eternity unless I find some way to die.

I'm honestly surprised that Conlaed has stayed with me this far. He seems like a smart cat. Among witches, it is foretold that there are special cats that can see deep within the souls of humans to choose their owners. Why would he stay with me? I'm not a good person. I doubt I'm a very good cat owner. Mostly what I've done since I got Conlaed, is get into trouble.

But I guess you don't always get what you deserve. Maybe that's why he is staying with me. Maybe he's supposed to be the bright spot in my life.

His purring rumbled deep into my own chest. The deep rumble comforted me. There's something a bit magical about a cat's purr. It's just so comforting.

I strode out of the vampire's home as quietly as I could while holding a purring cat. I didn't want to alert any of the other vampires to my presence if there even were any more in the monstrous house that loomed around me.

It's time to go home. That hovel of an apartment that I'd previously called home wouldn't due. I had to find something better. If not for me than for Conlaed.

He deserved something good. He didn't need to feel just how much I was dying inside. He didn't need to know the death in my soul.

It was finally time to get an apartment where I wouldn't be living in my own filth and squalor. For once, I'm not going to be allowed to stew in my own self-pity.

I'm still going to have to pay the price for my actions sometime soon. I felt that in the part of me that was still connected to the natural energy of the earth. The energy that sometimes gives me flashes of the future.

I'm just going to live my life and maybe give a shit sometimes. 


	6. Chapter 6-I don't know what I'm doing anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains graphic representations of self-harm and a suicide attempt. If this will trigger you in any way please do not read this chapter. I will summarize it at the end if you do not want to read it. Please be safe guys and get help if you need it. I'm available to talk if you want to private message me.

_Sometimes I tell myself I'm okay, I repeat it like a mantra._

_I'm okay._

_I'm okay._

_I'm okay._

_I'm okay._

_Because I'm afraid that if I stop, even for a moment..I will drown in all the reasons I am not._

I did it. I finally bought a place that wasn't crawling in filth. Conlaed seems happier. He's roaming around our new house sniffing every little corner he can find.

I'm still sitting on a couch, not bloodstained this time, with yet another bottle of whiskey in my hand. I know enough about myself to admit that I have a drinking problem. As usual, I don't give a shit.

I drink to forget. I drink so that I can't remember. Because if I remember then I'm afraid I'll lose my mind. I could have already lost it.

I can remember when I was just a young witch of only twenty years old. My sister Guila had decided it was a good idea to teach me the wild magic spell for fire. I remember the flash of her eyes as she passionately explained why I, a kitchen witch, would need to know that spell.

I remember the way the sunlight hit her long golden hair and made it flash like it was really made of molten gold.

She was so full of life. So vivacious. They stole that from her. They crushed the fucking life out of her. The goddamn humans killed her. And now she's never coming back. I never even got to fucking say goodbye.

Tears rolled down my face unbidden as memories rolled through my brain. Guila would be so angry at me.

She'd kill me herself if she saw me right now. But she's not here is she? She's not here to bitch slap me and put me in my place.

She never got to have the child that she always wanted. She never got to be a mother to anyone but me who just caused her pain.

I take a long gulp of whiskey that burns my throat. I do not care. I deserve every bit of the pain.

It's partially my fault that she's dead after all. If I hadn't baked that karma charm into the cornbread for thanksgiving then she would never have been caught.

The strange incidents that started the Salem witch trials would never have happened. In a way, I'm to blame for what happened almost as much as the humans are.

I ate the cornbread. I suppose that means that I got what was coming to me too.

I don't understand why the humans desire to live forever. Don't they know that immortality is watching everyone you love die? Don't they know the misery that pervades everyday life when you have an eternity with nothing to look forward to?

I don't know what I'm going to do when Conlaed dies. I could put him under a spell similar to mine. I won't. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone or anything else.

All I have is my cat and my revenge. That's it. It's a fucking pathetic list. Most people at least have family. I don't even have that. I just have my own disgusting self to talk to if you're not counting my cat.

I drained the last bit of the whiskey down my throat. It didn't burn. I felt numb. I felt hopelessness well up within me.

Conlaed ceased his wanderings and jumped onto my lap. He shoved his face under my hand in his own little way of using my limp body to pet himself. He probably could sense that there was something wrong with me. Why he didn't leave me the first time I saw him, I'll never know. I don't deserve him.

It just feels like I have no purpose anymore. There's only so long I can continue this meaningless existence.

I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can try. Everything I love dies. I don't want Conlaed to die. I can't let him die.

I can't.

God, I can't let anything happen to that little cat.

He returned to his wanderings after he deemed that he'd used my limp hand to pet himself enough.

When he was safely out of shatter radius, I smashed my whiskey bottle against my leg. I didn't care that the glass dug into my leg. It'd just add to the blood of mine that was spilled.

I picked up the largest shard and dug it into my bare wrist. The pain grounded me. It pulled me back from the ledge of memory that haunted me.

Deep scarlet blood began to spurt from the wound. I dragged the shard of glass up towards my elbow.

I didn't want to leave Conlaed but it was better that I die before I can get him killed. I don't want to be the reason he ends up dead. I can't let my darkness hurt another person that I care about.

The cream-colored couch was turning the color of my favorite red wine. It's funny how much blood reminds me of wine. I like to drink both. Both make me stronger. Both help me forget what I really am.

My wounded arm shook as I used it to press the shard hard into my unwounded arm. I repeated the process. The glass cut through my charred skin to the delicate blood vessels hiding underneath.

The couch was turning red on both sides of me now. It wouldn't be too long now.

The sting in my arms was easily ignorable. It hurt much less than being burnt alive.

Honestly, I'm kind of surprised that my blood is still red. I'm not human and I've been to hell more times than I can count. I would have thought that my blood would be the black of a demon by now.

The bright lights of my home begin to burn my eyes. Everything in front of me is spinning. I don't know how to focus my eyes anymore.

Breathing is hard. It takes effort. I don't want to put forth effort. It's not worth it.

Far away, I can hear Conlaed meowing for something desperately. I hope he's okay. I don't know what he wants. I hope he can get it on his own. I don't think I can get up right now.

Distantly, the door makes a splintering sound. I hear voices. My body won't move. I can hardly keep my eyes open.

Shouts echo through my apartment. A blurry face swims in my vision. I can't even make out whether it's a male or female face.

Something presses hard on my arms at the same time. I can't keep the scream from bubbling up and letting itself go.

I can't tell what the voices are saying. I can tell that they're saying something to me but I can't make out what they're saying. It's frustrating to my addled brain.

The pressure around my arms only get tighter. More voices join the others. I am lifted up. I feel the weight of my cat on my chest.

I feel safe. My body is laid on something hard that I'm strapped on top of. The weight of Conlaed never leaves my chest.

The voices are yelling in the background. I close my eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't read the chapter because of its subject matter basically what happens is that Saoirse buys a better apartment so that she can try to take better care of Conlaed. But then she gets drunk and has flashbacks which lead to her attempting suicide because she doesn't think that she can take care of Conlaed like he deserves. She also thinks that he would be better off if she was dead. She is picked up by human EMTs who save her life. 
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying my story as much as I am enjoying writing it.  
> -Lethe


	7. Chapter 7-Living isn't just breathing

_You died screaming yet the monster who took your place was silent._

I woke in a warm bed. It was all I could do to not let my breathing spiral out of control. I didn't really remember what happened but I instinctively knew that I needed to keep my glamour up.

Conlaed! What happened to him? Where is my little boy?!

I opened my eyes and frantically cast my eyes around the room. Finally, after a few panic-filled minutes, I spotted him curled up on a plush looking emerald-colored chair across the room.

He was safe. Conlaed was safe. I breathed a sigh of relief. Now I could focus on trying to remember what the fuck happened to me.

I looked down at my arms to find them wrapped tightly in white bandages. Red was seeping through slightly along both in a vertical line from my wrists to my elbows. My fucking arms hurt like hell. What the fuck did I do?

It was then that I registered the pounding in my head. Damn, how much did I drink? My head feels so fuzzy I'm finding it hard to think.

I groaned as I pulled myself up into a sitting position. Measly cuts on my arms had no reason to hurt as much as they fucking did.

A man rushed in as I was sitting up. He was wearing a strange mint-colored uniform that I think was called scrubs. I think that it meant that he was a medical professional. He was also human.

Human?! What the fuck was I doing in a human hospital? I scrambled backward feeling the panic from earlier come rushing back.

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you."

I scrambled back further until I was mashed against the headboard.

"My name is Mike. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just here to change your bandages. Will you let me check them please?"

"Okay," I responded, my voice hoarse from disuse.

The man-Mike-was surprisingly gentle when he unwrapped the bloodstained bandages. I almost gasped when he revealed the cuts on my arms. They were far deeper and wider than I thought.

The skin of my arms looked like it'd been mauled and ripped apart. Mike was as gentle as possible when packing in some kind of ointment. It was clear and sticky. He said that it was an antibiotic cream to help keep them from getting infected.

I won't lie and say that it didn't hurt like a motherfucker when he wrapped my arms back up. I also won't be a whiny bitch and deny that I screamed. Of course, I fucking screamed. That shit hurt.

Mike patted my shoulder gently.

"You'll be okay."

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry that I have to ask but do you remember what happened?"

"No, not really. All I know is that I woke up and I had a headache like I was hungover and I have these fucking cuts on my arms."

"Some of our EMTs responded to a nine-one-one call because of a screaming cat. When there was no response, after our knocks we broke in and found you on the couch. You were covered in blood from the wounds on your arms. We think that you got really drunk and tried to commit suicide."

"I...tried to commit suicide?"

"Yes, it looks like it, ma'am."

"No, I, I couldn't have. Conlaed.."

"Ma'am, do you mind telling me your name so I don't keep having to call you ma'am?

"Um, sure. My name is Saoirse."

"Saoirse. That's a pretty name. May I ask who Conlaed is?"

"Conlaed is my cat. He's over there." I gestured towards Conlaed wildly.

"Do you have anyone we can call to take care of your cat?"

"No. He just has me. I'm the only thing he has. How could I do this to him? How could I try to leave him? How could I? What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Saoirse! You need to calm the fuck down. You're only making things worse for yourself."

I panted desperately gasping for air that didn't want to come. How could I have done that to Conlaed? How could I have done that? I just can't believe that I could do that.

Trying to die...was fucking selfish of me. I guess that I was so used to not having anybody depending on me that I thought it was okay to try to leave this world. That doesn't make it okay though. Nothing can make it okay. I tried to abandon Conlaed. What the hell was I thinking? How could I be that selfish?

I was pulled from my swirling thoughts when Mike spoke again.

"Can I touch you Saoirse?"

"Yes," I croaked.

Strong arms wrapped firmly around me careful not to touch any of my injuries. It had been so long since I'd had contact with another person that wasn't violent. Of course, there was Thana and Makul but I killed them. So they don't count.

This was the first time I'd had positive contact with humans since the Salem witch trials. It could just be that I was getting weak too. The hug felt so nice though. I felt safe for the first time in a long time. And it was in a human's arms.

My brain was screaming at me to run away from the human and to kill him but I couldn't. Truth be told, I was tired. I was so fucking tired and if I felt safe in the human's arms then damn it, I was going to stay in the fucking human's arms.

Finally, after a long second, he pulled away. He smiled sadly at me.

"I'm going to recommend that you see my best friend Hera. She's one of the best therapists here. I think you would really be helped by her."

"Okay," I said not really knowing how to respond. I didn't really have a choice. I was weakened by blood loss. It wasn't exactly like I could go anywhere in this state.

Mike smiled again this time a bit of relief colored his gaze. Why would the human worry about me? To him, I'm probably just another of the dozens of suicide cases that he sees.

He plumped the pillows behind me before saying goodbye and leaving.

I had to decide what the hell I was going to do. I had to at least stay until I was strong enough to walk and fight on my own.

I'm still uncomfortable being around humans. It's against everything in my instincts. But at the same time, I felt so safe in Mike's arms. I felt kind of good? I haven't felt that way in a long time.

Maybe I could stay. At least until I get better. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let these humans live. I just have to keep up my glamour.

I don't know how I'm going to do the therapy thing. I've never had therapy. It's not like I can really tell the woman that I'm an almost three-hundred-year-old witch. I'd be locked up in the looney bin faster than you can say lickety-split.

I suppose I could give this therapy thing a try. Who knows? It might even give me a purpose to live besides Conlaed. 


	8. Chapter 8-Of lies and flesh

_I did not ask to be this._

_This hideous creature of cracked skin and snarling voice_

_But this prison of flesh is the only gift you ever gave me_

_So I will stretch this skin until I fill every crevice_

_And I will wear it until you regret that you created it._

_You made me a creature to be feared._

_So fear me._

My mind blazes in the darkness. I can see flames all around me. I can touch them. They are warm. They are here. They are in me. Burning me.

Screams blaze from me. I see the men of Salem in front of me grimacing. Burning. Screaming with me. Sharing my pain.

Their faces swim in front of me like an old school movie reel. I can see all of them. They never leave.

The faces of all the humans I've ever killed cycled in front of me vying for the spots that were easiest to torment me in. It was like watching ghost fight for dominance of a haunting. Their battle was slightly amusing because none of them were able to hit each other so they had to use psychic waves.

The only problem is that all those psychic waves start to hurt after a while. And now my head is pounding in addition to the burning.

Shit.

I'm startled from my reverie of watching the swirling mass of ghosts in front of me by someone shaking my body.

My eyes snapped open. Mike was looming over me with a worried look on his rugged face.

"What?" I snapped.

He backed away with his hands held up in front of him in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture.

"You were screaming."

"I was? I don't remember screaming. Why the fuck would I be screaming?"

"Have you ever heard of night terrors, Saoirse?"

"Kind of."

"I think you have them. Probably as a result of whatever trauma drove you to attempt."

"Probably."

"You should try to get some more rest if you can."

"You're even fucking stupider than I thought if you think I can go back to sleep now."

"I suppose you're right. What do you have in mind then? It's three am. We can't do anything too loud. I'll get in trouble if we wake anyone up."

I mulled that over for a second before alighting on an idea.

"Know how to play poker?"

"Yup."

"Do you have cards?"

"I can get some from the rec room."

"Please do. Also, get some skittles or something we can use as betting chips."

"Will do."

Mike smirked at me before striding out of the room to get the supplies to entertain me and probably himself too. I don't imagine that working the night shift in a recovery ward for people on suicide watch is particularly exciting.

I let my eyes wander around the room while I waited. It was still as drab as I remembered from the first time I woke up. It was just the same pale green color with no other real decoration.

I couldn't see Conlaed. My breaths began to move faster and faster until I was hyperventilating. I didn't eat him in my sleep did I? I hope to god I didn't eat him.

Tears streamed from my eyes unbidden.

My chest constricted making it even more difficult to draw in air.

Fuck, I hate this. I wish that I didn't have these panic attack things. They're annoying as fuck.

I wish I didn't see the fucking things that haunted me every time I close my eyes. I wish I didn't have to see Guila's face as she died every single time I tried to sleep. I wish I didn't fucking have to remember being burnt alive.

But most of all I wish that I could forget my own darkest secret. I lied to myself all the time so that I could forget about it for a little while. But I will always remember.

You see, I don't really need the flesh or blood of humans to keep up my glamour. That's one of the biggest lies that I tell myself. It's one of the lies that keeps me sane.

Because if the truth of what I am is allowed to run rampant in my head, I will lose what little sanity I have left.

The truth is that well, I don't need regular food. I can't eat it. It will make me extremely sick. I need to consume the flesh and blood of human beings. But I'm not a vampire. I'm a wendigo. I can occasionally eat other meat though which is why I'm worrying about Conlaed.

I suppose that makes me a hybrid. I'm two supernatural creatures at once, a born witch and a wendigo. I'm an abomination in the eyes of many of the supernatural world. Blood purity is a big deal. Mostly because it keeps the power solidified in a few families.

I guess it's a good thing wendigos were never much for authority anyway.

I get the free strength and speed but I have to pay for it with eternal hunger and the amazing look of an emaciated burnt corpse underneath my glamour. I also get sharp teeth and claws.

Keres' language doesn't have the power to grant anyone sharp teeth so far as I know. That was only another lie that I told myself.

The stories and lore about how desperate people who resort to cannibalism are turned are true. That's how I was turned. Maybe one day, I'll tell that story. But not now, I'm not ready for that.

Nothing happened for a long time. How long could it take Mike to get the damn cards? I don't actually know where the rec room is so I can't judge the exact distance but it shouldn't have taken forty minutes. Something's wrong.

Pad. Pad. Pad.

My ears picked up on footsteps in the hallway. They were too light sounding to be Mike. He's a large man and the steps in the hall were light. Whoever was making them couldn't weigh much more than me.

They got closer. Closer. And closer.

Finally, a hand turned the knob of my door. My door creaked open noisily. A short woman with extremely curly hair slunk into my room like a lioness on the offensive.

Her skin fascinated me. It was the color of the darkest chocolate I've ever seen and there was an effervescent glow emanating from her.

She smelled human but something was slightly off. Her face was hard as she looked at me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Hera."

"Hera..have you seen, Mike? He was getting cards for a poker game."

"I locked him in the rec room and stole his phone. It will take him at least four hours to get free."

"Why? I thought he was your friend?"

"He shouldn't have been alone with you. I warned him what you were."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Bitch, I'm a seer. Do you really think I can't smell the stench of a _wendigo_?

"How the fuck did you scent me? I thought my glamour would be enough to mask it from a petty seer like you."

"I'm no petty seer as you call it cannibal bitch. I'm the oracle of fucking Delphi."

"Well, you know what I am. Now, what the fuck do you want from me? Have you seen my cat?"

"Your cat is at my house where it's safe. Yes, I'm feeding him meat like he's used too. Yes, I just read your filthy mind. I want you to not murder any of my fucking friends."

"I can do the not murdery thing but I need my cat. I need Conlaed."

"He's your soul keeper isn't he?"

"Yes."

"I will do what I can. How can you assure me that you're not going to eat my friends? From what I know about wendigos you'll need to feed very soon."

"Point me in a direction away from your friends and I'll hunt there."

"You'll just kill a random innocent then."

"Yes."

"You don't care do you?"

"Listen! If I fucking cared I wouldn't be fucking functional because I would be dragged down by the fucking guilt!"

"So you've just resigned yourself to it then."

"Yes," I snapped.

"Touchy, touchy," she laughed, "You must be getting hungry."

"I'm always fucking hungry."

"We can't have you eating innocents. How do you feel about serial killers?"

"Fine, I just need food."

"We have time while Mike struggles with the door. I'll take you hunting since you're injured and I don't want you surrendering to your instincts because of hunger."

"I can walk perfectly fine on my own."

"Sure you can."

I tried to move my legs to stand and take a few steps toward the woman. All I succeeded in doing was face-planting on the linoleum tile. The seer Hera just laughed at me and then roughly pulled me to my feet. With my arm slung across her shoulder, we walked out of the hospital through a maze of halls.

My wendigo senses stirred eager for the hunt. I wanted blood. I needed flesh. I needed it. 


	9. Chapter 9-They won't save you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter! Yay!

_You are shaking fists and trembling teeth. I know: You did not mean to be cruel. That does not mean you were kind._

Hera backed away from me once she saw the heinous red glow emanating from my eyes. I hated them. They labeled me a monster. They labeled me killer, murderer, cannibal.

I couldn't hide my hunger. My teeth had already shredded their way through my gums leaving a bloody trail flowing down my now long sharp teeth.

I spat my own blood out onto the concrete below my feet. This time it was black.

"How? Your blood was red in the hospital."

"Just because I'm a wendigo doesn't mean that I maintain my wendigo form at all times. That would be magically exhausting."

"I didn't know that holding a form could be exhausting. I thought that it was an automatic reflex."

"It's really not. Doing anything related to shapeshifting is magically exhausting."

We made our way to a black ford truck. It beeped loudly as Hera approached it.

I shrank back from the truck. The loud noise startled me. It reminded me of the last time I heard a gunshot even though it was not remotely near as loud.

Hera kept a firm grip on my bicep and forced me forwards.

"I'm not going to hurt you, yet at least. My truck will not hurt you. I know that the unlock chime is loud but it's okay. Saoirse, you're okay. You're going to be okay."

I inhaled sharply. Hesitantly putting one foot in front of the other I made it the passenger side door of the truck.

Hera let go of me long enough to open the door and boost me in. She buckled the seat belt around my aching abdomen.

I couldn't help but watch the sway of her hips through the rearview mirror as she went around to get in the driver's side. I couldn't help if she was attractive.

I jumped again when Hera started the truck and it roared loudly like a beast of legend. She laid a comforting hand on my thigh. Her hand was warm. I couldn't lie to myself and say that I didn't like her touch.

"I underestimated just how jumpy you were."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

"No. I just never expected to encounter a wendigo that showed such clear signs of ptsd."

"What's ptsd?"

"Post-traumatic stress disorder. It usually occurs in soldiers or people who are victims of abuse or a great trauma."

"Oh," I said quietly.

"That's the softest I've ever heard you speak. Are you okay?"

"Why would you care?"

"Look. I may think that your meal habits are utterly disgusting but that doesn't mean I can ignore a person in pain. I'm still a therapist you know."

"You're the fucking oracle of fucking Delphi too."

Hera looked at me for a second before smirking. She roared with laughter a second later.

"I can't believe it! The wendigo made a joke."

"Of course, I did. I'm not some kind of humorless bastard."

"You know you're the first wendigo I've encountered who was sane enough for me to talk to. I've encountered several of your kind before and I've had to kill them every single time. I've killed every wendigo I've come across except you. Don't make me regret my choice."

"I'll try. It's not like I'm a stellar person. I'll do my best though."

"That's all I can ask."

"Where are we going?"

"Death row. We're going to find you a couple of serial killers to eat. I think you'll like the taste of them. Prison food is pretty good here in Boston."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"I am. I was arrested for doing PCP in a public place and being an extreme public nuisance."

This time it was my turn to laugh uproariously. I couldn't imagine the sexy and proper looking Hera doing a dangerous drug like PCP in a public place. I wonder what she meant by being a public nuisance.

I probably should work harder to hide the fact that I'm pretty fucking attracted to her. I don't want my wendigo instincts recognizing her as my mate. We'd really have problems then.

Hera shifted the truck into reverse and pulled out of the hospital parking lot. We drove for forty minutes before pulling off into a dark parking lot below a dark looming building that was barely lit.

"What is this place?"

"A secret where the Boston police keep our notorious serial killers."

"So I get to eat the people here if I want to?"

"Oh yes. And no one is going to stop you."

A dark smile crept across my face. My gums bristled with sharp barbed teeth. The red glow that emanated from my eyes darkened. I could sense Hera's fear. I didn't want her to be afraid of me. Her fear hurt. It felt like a punch to the stomach. For some odd reason, I wanted to be in Hera's good graces. I wanted her to feel safe around me and I wanted her to trust me. But most of all, I wanted her to like me too.

It was foolish of me because she is an oracle. I am a wendigo. Our species aren't exactly the most compatible in the world.

I mean my species is famous for cannibalism and Hera's species is renowned for their pride and prudishness.

Hera turned off the truck. She leapt softly to the ground before helping me out.

We continued the same way we'd come out of the hospital. Her helping me along with my arm slung over her shoulder.

Hera scanned a badge that dangled from her keychain against a barely visible scanner by a steel door. It clanged open ominously.

Ominously for the prisoners that is.

No lights were on as we tramped through the hallways. Not that we needed them anyway. Neither of us were human. We could see in the dark much better than a normal human.

My wendigo senses stirred crazily sensing so many humans ripe for eating around me.

"Where do you want to start?"

I pointed to a random cell. Hera slammed the button next to the door and shoved me in.

The human in front of me was male and covered in a white prison jumpsuit. His muscular frame made the suit bulge out. I smirked. The more muscular they were the better they tasted to me. Muscles were one of my favorite parts of the body to consume.

"Who the fuck are you bitch?"

"I'm here to kill you shitbag."

"How is a little fucking thing like you going to take me?"

I snarled at that. The human shrank back afraid. My eyes were probably glowing more strongly now.

The moonlight bounced off of my sharp teeth. I crept towards the man who still appeared skeptical that I was going to kill him. Foolish human. He was always doomed to die.

He actually tried to attack me. He rushed at me and tried to throw a jab to my face.

I caught the punch easily. I simply squeezed my fist. The sound of the human's bones snapping was music to my ears.

I leapt at him faster than he could even comprehend. Before the pathetic serial killer knew it, his throat was wrapped up in my hand.

I'd buried my teeth in his throat before I could comprehend that I'd done anything.

His blood tasted tangy. Kind of like a lemon soda. God, I hadn't had one of those since the nineteen fifties. It's been so long since I've had any food that wasn't blood, flesh, whiskey, or vodka. Vodka and whiskey are about the only things that I can tolerate without getting what's essentially the wendigo version of food poisoning.

I ripped deeper going for the muscles. I sighed in contentment when they crossed my lips.

Fuck, the hole in the human was too small. I got tired of just digging around in the human's throat so I ripped his head off with one smooth jerk.

The splat as his head hit the floor made me smile. God, I loved the smell of fresh blood and newly slaughtered human. Why had I ever tried to deny myself this? Why had I tried to run away?

If being immortal has taught me anything it's that running away never solves your problems. It just makes them worse. Sure hasn't fucking stopped me from running away though has it?

I popped an eyeball out of the head with one elongated nail. It went down much like a chicken dumpling would. One more eyeball and a whole lot of other random organs later I was on to the brain. My favorite.

I tore it messily from the man's skull before shredding it with my claws and stuffing the pieces down my throat.

My vision went red as hunger completely took me over. I only hope Hera had to good sense to keep me locked away until I was done feeding. I don't want to hurt her. My wendigo senses like her for some odd reason even though witch me thinks she's a stuck-up bitch. It's not a good thing that stuck-up bitch is attractive to witch me. It's really not a good thing.

When I came to again, I was splattered with blood and guts. There were bones strewn across the room. It looked like a bomb had gone off.

A sharp firm knock sounded on the door. Hera.

"I'm fine now. I won't eat you."

"Why thank you Saoirse. I'm going to let you out now."

I strode out of the room only to face Hera's shocked look at the amount of blood that covered me.

"The fuck are you looking at? I just ate a person. "M not going to look like I just got out of fucking spa."

"I know that logically but I didn't expect there to be quite this much."

"Well here you fucking go. This is how much blood you get on you while eating a person."

"Saoirse.."

"Shut the fuck up."

"I just fucking risked my damn job for you! Forgive me if I want a bit of courtesy!"

"Fuck."

I slumped against the wall. 

"I don't like you seeing me like this lass."

"Well no fucking shit."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"What was that?" She cupped her hand around her ear in the universal gesture for louder.

"I'm sorry," I said slightly louder.

"Get your ass up. I have towels for you to sit on in the truck."

"You're really not that bothered by this whole thing, are you?

"You think I didn't foresee this shit?

"Forgot that you were a seer."

"No shit. Now get your malnourished ass in my truck before I drag you."

Suitably chastised, I got up and followed my unwitting mate to her truck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we may have a bit of twisted love blooming. I won't say whether or not they're actually going to happen but here they are for now. Their ship name is Sara. If anyone has anything better please comment it below and leave kudos this chapter if you liked it.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> -Lethe


	10. Chapter 10-Never really gone

_You can't save someone who's already dead._

We reached the hospital parking lot after a tense drive. Neither of us wanted to get caught with the other. We weren't supposed to be friends, our species.

This time I didn't need Hera to help me back to my room. I was finally strong again. I could do this by myself. I didn't need her. It felt good to be strong again.

We crept quietly through the halls trying not to wake any of the sleeping patients or attract the attention of the night nurses.

Finally, we made it back to my room. Luckily it was before I snapped and ate someone out of anxiousness along the way.

We both shut the door behind us and breathed a sigh of relief. Our eyes widened when we saw an extremely pissed Mike sitting on my bed spinning a scalpel in his right hand.

"Where the fuck were you two?"

"Out," I responded.

"Bullshit. If you were just out as you call it then why the fuck are you covered in blood and guts? Hmm?"

"I needed to feed. Hera took me to feed."

"Why are you covered in viscera then? What's wrong with hospital food?"

"Mike, I'm...I'm not human. Your food won't do anything to satisfy my hunger. It'll just give me food poisoning."

"If you're not human, then what the fuck are you?"

"I'm a wendigo."

"Fuck."

"Yeah. I get the wendigo equivalent of food poisoning if I eat something that isn't human flesh."

"Why didn't you hurt me if you needed flesh to heal?"

"You were the first person to give me a hug in more than a century."

"That's really sad."

"I'm not used to having any real contact with anyone. You two are my first friends since the sixteen hundreds."

"How fucking old are you?"

"I'm pretty damn old. You two are kids to me."

"Hey!" Hera chimed in. "I'm two hundred and fifty not fucking twenty!"

"So both of you are over a hundred years older than me and somehow both of you manage to get into a fuckload of trouble. Did you two bitches notice that the police are looking for the person who _ate_ that serial killer in the state maximum security prison?"

"We didn't notice that the police were looking for us, no."

"How are you two so much older than me and somehow I'm the responsible one?"

"Fucking hell Mike, I needed food. What the fuck did you want me to do? Hera didn't want me eating innocent people."

"I would appreciate if one of you would at least tell me where the fuck you're going. It would also be nice if I wasn't locked in the fucking rec room, please. That would be really nice. If you do that again Hera, I'm going to see if there's a way I can kill you since you're apparently also not human."

"Fine," Hera groused perching on the edge of my rumpled hospital bed.

"Also did it occur to either of you motherfuckers that it would be a good idea to wash the guy's fucking blood off of Saoirse? Hmm? Or are you both suicidal idiots?"

"I resent that comment."

"Of course you do Saoirse. It wasn't meant to be a damn compliment."

I grumpily flipped him off with both hands. It was one of the gestures that I actually appreciated humans coming up with. It was much better than biting your thumb at someone.

"Get in the fucking shower Saoirse. I need to have a word with Hera."

I stomped to the shower upset that Mike was treating me like an idiotic child. I stripped quickly throwing my soiled hospital clothes to the floor. Hard. My pants fell in tatters. I'd accidentally shredded them with my sharp claws.

Jesus fuck, why couldn't the fucking things go away? Sometimes they were extremely helpful but otherwise, they just got in my way.

I stared at my naked body in the mirror. Hera was right, I did look malnourished. I could see my ribs through the hard lines of muscle on my torso.

Blood stained the whole of my body although it was mainly concentrated on my chest and throat.

For some odd reason, my teeth were still out. I don't know why they haven't retracted. This is very strange. Usually, when I'm done feeding they'll retract on their own.

I turned the hot water of the shower on with one bloody hand. I'd have to clean this whole bathroom later. Don't want the police finding out that I was the one who killed that serial killer. Don't know who he was. To be honest, I can't say that I care either.

I stepped underneath the warm steaming flow of water. It felt good on my hard tense muscles. It was relaxing. I watched the blood of the man flow down the drain along with odd little bits of viscera that had stuck to me.

I used the woodsy smelling shampoo on my short dark hair. I liked the smell of it. My more primal wendigo senses hoped Hera would too.

I decided to use conditioner for once in my life again sticking to the woodsy scent.

I smirked when I found a body wash that supposedly smelled like lavender. Hmm, maybe it would mix well with woodsy scents.

I rinsed myself clean and stepped out of the shower. I wrapped a warm towel around my body and quickly dried myself off.

There was a set of clothes neatly arranged on the counter. Hera. I took a closer look. She'd left me a black sports bra with a black long sleeve shirt to go over it. I pulled the tan tactical pants over the plain underwear that she'd given me.

I looked like a soldier. I guess that might have been Hera's intention. The clothes also conveniently hid all of my wendigo like features. They hid the ribs that protruded out over my muscles and made me look even more grotesque.

Now, I just had to figure out how to get my fucking teeth to retract. Nightmare. If you close your mouth wrong with those things....Jesus. Trust me, wendigo blood is not a pleasant taste. You really really don't want to try it. There's a reason vampires avoid us.

Maybe Hera knew something about it. She's the fucking oracle of fucking Delphi so she should know something. Maybe.

I took a few steps closer to the door and heard yelling.

"Hera! What the fuck were you thinking, being alone with a fucking wendigo? Did you ever even take a moment to consider the consequences? And what the hell were you thinking locking me in the rec room?"

"I didn't want you to get hurt. You're human. I'm not and thus I am significantly harder to kill than you are."

"What were you doing with her in the first place? Why would you want to be alone with her?"

"At first I was going to kill her with the lighter I had in my pocket, but then I saw her and I couldn't. She's broken, Mike. I don't know if I can even help her. I've never felt that much damage in a single person before. It almost made me sick the first time I felt it."

"What did it feel like to you?"

"It felt like her soul was being burned and shredded constantly. I don't know how a person's soul feels like that and their personality is still intact. I don't know how she's as sane as she is."

"I know you want to save Saoirse, Hera but she's already dead. She's a wendigo. At some point, you're going to have to consider whether or not you can actually save her. Some people just can't be saved."

"I refuse to accept that."

"It's your own head on the chopping block."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fangirling over my own story. I love Hera and Saoirse's relationship so much. Great now I feel stupid.   
> -Lethe


	11. Chapter 11-Damn you anway

_You can romanticize me all you wish, but a devil wrapped in silk is still a devil._

I stayed in the bathroom until their voices died down and I wouldn't be under suspicion of eavesdropping before slamming the door into the opposite wall.

Hera stared at me with red-rimmed eyes. It was only now that I realized just how tired she looked. She looked like she'd been running a marathon followed by and an all-nighter.

"You look like hell on shit stick," I said.

"Well thank you, wendigo bitch. You also look like hell."

"Getting lame with the insults now are we?" I snarked.

"Shut the fuck up, Ris. Can I call you Ris? It doesn't matter anymore because I'm calling you fucking Ris."

I took another look at my mate. She looked dead on her feet. I wanted to do something to help her but I didn't know how. I'm not exactly the most skilled person at caring for another.

"I'm sorry Hera. I didn't mean to make you worry about me."

"How much of Mike and I's conversation did you fucking hear?" She asked me tiredly.

"All of it once you guys started yelling." I admitted ashamed at eavesdropping of all things when I've done so much worse. I guess the difference was that Hera is my mate.

Hera sighed.

"You weren't meant to hear any of that. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"No it's fine. I want to know what people really think of me."

"Ris, I..I."

"No," I interrupted, "People say what they really think of you when you're not around. If all you think I am is a cannibalistic bitch with commitment issues and a whole lot of fucking damage than just tell me that and leave me alone."

"Ris, please."

"Fuck no. Give me back my damn cat and let me leave. I know what you truly think of me now so let me fucking leave."

My more primal wendigo senses urged me to do anything necessary to stay with my mate. But I couldn't. She thought of me as some kind of broken animal. I had no intention of staying with a mate who would not regard me as an equal. She saw me as a broken thing that she wanted to fix. That was not how I wanted to be regarded by my mate. So I would no longer be her mate. I was done.

"I can't let you have your cat back Saoirse. I don't trust you to care for him when you can barely care for yourself."

"Bitch!" I snapped. "You know the importance of a soul keeper and yet you take him from me."

"I can keep him safe for you."

"I need him."

"No, you don't. What happens when you get hungry and there aren't any humans around to eat? What will you do? Eat your soul keeper?"

"Fuck no! You don't understand! He keeps me sane."

"Sane? You call your mental state sane? Saoirse, you just healed from a suicide attempt for fuck's sake. Stay in the hospital where we can help you."

"You're not equipped to help me. I'm a fucking wendigo after all. Right, Mike?"

The man in question cringed around me when he saw the teeth that still bristled long and sharp from my mouth. I could tell that my eyes must be burning scarlet again because Hera's face was soaked with fear. For the first time since I'd met her, I was glad that my mate was afraid of me as she should be. I was something to be feared after all. Not some docile animal that she could just fix as she will.

Sure, I'll admit that I was broken but that doesn't excuse her thinking of me that way and I know I'm being hypocritical because that's the same way I view humans but I trusted them and they broke my trust.

I didn't like it but I still trusted Hera to take care of Conlaed. At least for now. There were things I needed to do that I didn't want Conlaed to see me do.

I really didn't want him to see me become what I've always hated about myself.

See, I'm going to send a message to Hera that I'm her equal. Whether she accepts it or not is her problem, but I'm still going to send her a message that she won't forget in a damn hurry.

I shot Hera an icy glare before smashing through the window. I didn't really have a plan but I've always been good at winging it. A little gift from Keres I suppose. The glass fell around me like deadly snow. It was beautiful.

I hit the ground hard. My claws bit into the concrete below me. I scrabbled to my feet and shot off in a random direction. I just knew that I needed food.

Food is good. I want to taste flesh on my tongue. I need it. I crave it with everything in my being.

Hera might have romanticized me as a broken toy that she could fix but you can't wrap a sword in silk and call it cloth. That's not how the world works. I'm still a sword. you can't just make a weapon into something soft as soon as you desire it be something soft. That's like trying to make water flow upstream which is quite simple with the right spell but that's beside the point.

A monster is still a monster no matter what anyone says or does.


	12. Chapter 12-Let sleeping gods lie

"You were destined for glory, honor, and fame. I was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name."

I wandered the streets of Boston for hours aimlessly. I stayed deep within the shadows. Any attention is bad attention for a supernatural plotting bloody revenge.

I could hear a ghost screaming angrily in the apartment building to my right. I hope it gets the revenge it wants on the living. Hoping is all I can do for it at the moment. When I'm all wendigoed out my witch powers are impaired. Mostly by my hunger as I can't seem to stop wanting to eat anything remotely human in sight.

I remember one time when I lost control and nearly ate a fucking zombie before I realized what I was doing. He tasted like someone had rolled shit and tar together into a fucking wonderful burrito. I vomited up everything I ate that day. Total waste of perfectly good flesh.

The smell of the humans around me was driving me insane. I needed to get somewhere that humans never went when they were living. Fuck, I didn't want to it but it's the only way I'll be able to truly escape Hera at least for a while. I just hope she takes good care of Conlaed. She better. If she hurts him I'll take out his blood tenfold on her.

My claws extended all the way out and I braced myself for the pain. I plunged my left hand into my chest while I slit my own throat down to the bone with the claws of my other hand.

I yanked my heart out of my chest and stared at it for a little bit. It looked just as shriveled as I remembered it being.

I crushed it in my palm.

I doubled over in pain.

I bit through my lips to keep from screaming.

My breaths came fast and hard.

Pain wracked me.

Blood poured from my mouth, neck, and throat.

Molten eyes snapped open.

They locked onto my own.

Familiar features came into view.

Keres.


	13. Chapter 13-Ascent in madness

_Shed every skin that no longer fits, even if they call you cold-blooded._

_And if they try to stop your growth?_

_Unhinge your jaw and go for the throat._

I slammed my fist into Keres' jaw. The goddess went flying backward onto the stalagmites behind us. They punched through her armor and sent molten bronze blood flying everywhere.

"What the fuck daughter? Why are you here? Your time is not up yet."

"I know. I had to get away from the surface. There are people there who want me for something that I can't give."

"That still doesn't explain why you punched me."

"I don't know I just felt like it."

"Of fucking, course you did."

Keres drew back her fist. Her punch sent me flying back into the wall so hard that the stone cracked around me.

"Daughter, tell me what you're really doing down here before I punt your ass back up to the surface."

"Fucking fine. I just wanted to come see Nyogtha."

"Bullshit. The last time you and that _thing_ were allowed to be alone together I had to cause world war two to cover up your fucking mistakes."

"Ny isn't a thing mom. We just like to cause chaos together. Is that really so wrong?"

"Only when I have to start a world war to clean up your mess."

"Oh please, don't act like you didn't enjoy that war. You feed off of it for years. You've been gloating about that for the past fifty years so don't tell you didn't fucking enjoy it."

"Of course I enjoyed it Saoirse! I'm the goddess of fucking violence!"

"Don't pretend you're any better than me _mother_. Don't pretend that your hands aren't just as filthy."

"Fine but don't ask for my goddamn help when this blows up in your face."

"I won't."

I stalked through the nearest gaping maw that I sensed led to where I wanted to go. I wanted Ny. So Ny I would get.

Unfortunately, my wendigo senses refused to work in hell. For some stupid fucking reason that made me want to knaw the arm off of the nearest creature human or no.

I wandered through the depths of hell for what seemed like hours before I began to smell the acidic tinge to the air that signaled Nyogtha's closeness.

The squelch that heralded Ny's movements slowly grew audible. Finally, I saw a long black tentacle curled around a stalagmite.

A smile pulled itself across my ruined lips. My old friend looked well. I felt a rush of awareness flood me. I felt as if I was falling into a pit that contained the knowledge of the universe.

A warm tentacle wrapped itself around me. His deep rumbling voice projected itself directly into my brain.

"What are you doing down here little one?"

"I came to see you Ny. I missed you so much. It's been so long since we've had some real fun."

Ny's tentacles perked up at the mention of fun.

"What kind of fun are you thinking of little one?"

"I was thinking that we could summon some of your brothers and sisters and cause some trouble."

"Won't your mother be angered?"

"I already talked to her. She doesn't really give a shit. She just acts like she does."

"So the mother of violence is fine with us and few of my siblings causing pain and madness?"

"Yes, Ny. That's what I just told you."

His deep laugh rumbled in my brain.

"Which of my siblings do you want to call little one?"

"How about Istasha, Yog-Sothoth, Aylith, and Dhumin?"

"You wanna cause another "great war" as the humans called it little sister?"

"Yes," I hissed.

"You're wicked."

"I know. Isn't it amazing?" I laughed.

"Sister, what's wrong?"

"The fuck are you talking about Ny?"

"You're losing your mind again."

I laughed hysterically.

"Again Ny? I thought you knew that I lost my sanity a long time ago."

"I thought you were getting better, little one."

"Well, I guess you thought wrong."

"I suppose I did sister. How do you want to about summoning my siblings?"

"Let's begin with Aylith. He'll be the easiest to summon as all I have to do is eviscerate a human in the woods. It would be helpful if you were there so that he won't eat me."

"Who are we doing next?"

"Dhumin. We'll need to find his new mound and remove it. I'll also need you there. On second thought you're going to come with me to all the summonings. I'll just put a cloaking spell on you."

"Are we going to awaken Istasha or Yog-Sothoth next?"

"Istasha. I'll need you to enter my mind and give me the full force of your power big brother."

"That will drive you insane."

"I'm already insane."

"Fine. How are you going to finish the ritual?"

"I have to consume a child bathed in darkness to summon Isa. Yoggy's going to be easy to summon. All I have to do is butcher some hapless human. No big deal."

"It's a little disturbing how willing you are to kill little one."

"Really? It's almost as if I'm talking to a priest and now a blob of murder with tentacles."

"We wanted you to be better than us little one. We didn't want you to become us. But now I see we were mistaken. Your soul is too damaged to be anything but a true sister."

"You're still going to help me right?"

"Of course little one."

I smirked and let Ny see the lengths my teeth had grown to.

"Fuck little one. Your fangs have grown long."

"All the better for slaughtering the humans with brother."

"You're sick sister."

"I know." 


	14. Chapter 14-The darkest strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter! Shit's also getting real guys!
> 
> -Lethe

_Judge if you want, we're all going to die. I intend to deserve it._

Nyogtha wrapped his tentacles around me and teleported us to the nearest forest large enough to summon Aylith. The trees loomed dark over my head. The long dark enveloped me. It comforted me. It made me feel at home.

It's funny how I felt at home in the dark but the light made me fear for my life. I suppose it's because I'm afraid of people seeing me for what I really am. It's a silly fear because my mate sees me as a monster and a damaged wreck. She's never going to accept me for who I am so why should I let her be? It doesn't make sense.

I hate her. I hate her so much. She was supposed to be the one who would save me from my own darkness. She was the one who would give me a purpose to live again. Hera was going to maybe make me happy for the first time in hundreds of years.

I'm being childish I know. But I wanted someone to save me from myself. I wanted someone who could look at me as an equal and say you are enough but you need to fix these issues.

I just wanted someone to tell me that I mattered enough to them that they would want to be with me for the rest of their lives. It was foolish of me to expect anything from Hera. I barely know the woman after all and she probably can't even sense that we are mates.

That just makes it hurt all the more though. Because she doesn't even know why I want her so badly.

It hurt because she will never know why I love and hate her with all of my heart. It sounds so cheesy for me an almost three hundred year old wendigo and witch to say that but it's true. It hurts when the one you care about doesn't care about you back. It truly does.

I was pulled from my musings by Ny who looked sullen at waiting for me. Don't ask me how a blob of amorphous tentacles can look sullen but somehow he managed it.

He shoved me telepathically. The mental nudge sent me almost staggering to my knees in sudden pain. It hurt but oh it hurt good. I liked it and hated myself for liking it all the more.

"Sister, stop losing yourself in your own thoughts. We have work to do."

"Ny, I need a human to kill. Would you mind grabbing me one?"

Ny made a mockery of a human bow and teleported away leaving me to get ready for the ritual.

I looked around the trees for the supplies that I needed. I found the dry oak wood I needed.

The oak branches I snapped in half and laid in a triangle in the center of a clearing.

I wandered the forest for a couple of hours while Ny was human hunting. I needed Blue Vervain. The summoning ritual I was using for Aylith was not the one his siblings used to contact him. I was using my own perverted form of witchcraft that I'd created over the years.

Finally, I found the vervain and traced my steps back until I reached the clearing. Ny was there with a human in tow. I smirked making sure to show the human my teeth. Showing the humans my teeth pretty much always strikes a healthy amount of fear into them.

Nyogtha held the whimpering frat boy steady with four of his tentacles over the triangle of wood that I'd created.

The vervain went into my mouth where I shredded it with my sharp teeth until it reached a consistency that I liked.

I took one of my long nails and used it to slice a long line down the center of the human's chest all the while chewing on the vervain. When I'd opened up the human sufficiently, I spat the vervain blob out onto his heart and pressed it in with the pads of my fingers.

His blood soaked my hands and I couldn't help but take a lick. It was good. Perhaps too good. This frat boy must be in good shape then if he tastes so good. I resisted the urge to eat the boy. He wasn't my snack after all. He was for Lithy. It would seem strange to outsiders that I call monster beyond any real comprehension by nicknames. But they are my chosen family and as I am a monster myself, I fit right in.

Yeah the wendigo fits in with creatures who just happen to be oh so similar to the creatures described by H. P. Lovecraft. Ny tells me that Lovecraft actually did meet some of the great old ones. It's kind of surprising to me that a mere human managed to survive a meeting with one of the old ones. I had issues when I first met them as Istasha was hell bent on killing me because I seemed like a threat.

Once she warmed up to me though she's been one of my best friends. If you could call being murder buddies friends. It just depends on your definition though.

She's not human though. And none of them can really spend too much time around me lest I lose myself completely in their power. Even I am not immune to them. In fact because I spend so much time with them whenever I'm in hell, I'm probably more susceptible than most species.

I finished the ritual to summon my friend. By slashing the human's throat and squeezing his heart until it burst in my fist.

I don't know if you can tell but I like to squeeze hearts. It's so satisfying when they pop and burst and blood flies everywhere. Hearts also make a fairly good snack.

It took a while for Lithy to respond. Probably just deeply asleep like usual.He's a lazy bastard when he wants to be just like the rest of his siblings.

The ground creaked and groaned shaking beneath my feet. The trees in the clearing cracked and fell out all facing outwards.

They began to float. Circling inwards above the human boy who lay twisted in the center of my oak triangle.

The boy's heart shot out of his chest into the middle of the twinning trees. The oak triangle floated up to the heart and wrapped tightly around it.

The rest of the trees began to twin themselves into Ny's older brother's form.

Long claws made of broken branches began to form. The figure of a tall man stood in front of me. Only he was tall compared to Ny and not me. So to me he was a giant.

Giant gold eyes the size of my torso looked at me. A deep rumbling laugh boomed through the trees.

"Why did you summon me little one? I was having a nice thousand year nap."

"We need your help."

"We?"

"Ny's here too."

At that, Aylith howled a greeting to his brother who made a strange sound with his tentacles in return.

"What do you want little sister? What did you call us to do?"

"Cause chaos."

Aylith's maw opened in a sick impression of a smile.

"So we get to have fun, then."

"Yes."

"I assume it's not just me you're summoning, who else are we going to call?"

"Issy, Yoggy, and Dhumin."

"So we're getting the gang back together are we?"

"Of course. Did you really think that I'd trust someone other than you guys to cause chaos with me?"

"You'd never betray us like that Ris."

I smiled at Lithy but turned to Ny and nodded to him. He ensnared both of us in his tentacles and teleported us to an underground cavern with an alter at the center.

"I don't want to do this to you little one."

"You have to. It's the only way I'll be able to channel enough power to summon Issy."

"It will drive you mad."

"I'm already mad. You don't understand Ny. I've already lost everything. I have nothing left to lose."

Ny sighed his tentacles waving reluctantly. I could tell that he really didn't want to do this to me. He had no choice though. Not if we wanted to summon Istasha.

A telepathic weight began to rest itself on the edges of my mind. It wormed its way through the weak walls that I'd put up long ago to keep Guila from reading my thoughts.

The faces of the people I'd killed rushed up towards me. They swarmed me. Consumed me. I'd killed them. And I didn't regret it. I didn't give a single shit that I murdered them.

I didn't feel my body collapse to the cave floor. I didn't feel the wounds that my nails raked into my already ruined face.

Ny and Lithy looked at me worriedly. I knew they feared what I'd do when I had no morals. Ny's power tended to do that to people. It tended to drive them to make their darkest fantasies a reality.

The pain continued for a long time. The guilt, it made me want to kill myself all over again. It was unbearable.

I stopped trying to bear it. I let it consume me.

Finally, I picked myself up from the rocky ground. Blood streamed from the self-inflicted wounds on my face.

I was well aware that I looked totally insane. Couldn't say I really gave two shits though. I don't know why people knocked being evil when it's so fucking fun. You get to do whatever the hell you want. What's not to love?

I opened my eyes to see both creatures looking at me worriedly. They both were attempting to look concerned but as neither of them had the proper facial structures to form that expression they both just succeeded in looking the great old one version of constipated.

A laugh bubbled from my throat before I could stop it. Ny and Lithy just looked terribly confused. 

"Sorry, it's just you two looked constipated." I snorted unable to contain myself.

Ny's tentacles began to shake in his version of laughter. I only laughed harder now that I'd managed to make a lovecraftian horror laugh.

Lithy just looked more confused. He'd never been good at understanding emotions. He was just good at the destruction part of his job. He'd never really mastered the driving people insane part very well.

Hell, I was better at driving people insane that he was. Me. And I wasn't even a great old one like him.

"We should get on with the sacrifice."

"I agree. I need a human child to consume though."

"I will obtain one for you."

Ny teleported away leaving me alone in the cave with Aylith. Aylith looked worried about something. Probably me. He shouldn't worry so much. I'm not as fragile as he thinks. Or maybe I am. One of us will be proven right eventually.

"What are you really doing Ris? I can sense the pain rolling off of you in waves."

"I'm just having fun Lith."

"No, you're not. Fun doesn't involve the deaths of millions."

"Maybe it fucking does for me. I'm not a normal human. It would serve you well to remember that."

"You're not who I remember you being."

"People change. That's part of being a person Lith. Not that I'd expect you to understand that."

His forehead creaked as it wrinkled up.

"You're just as stubborn as you always were."

"Damn right."

Ny finally got his tentacly ass back into Issy's cave. He had my sacrifice wrapped in eight of his tentacles. I could already sense the darkness that soaked the child.

It would grow up to be a murderer. Killing leaves a stain on your soul. One that can be sensed. And fate likes to let other beings like me and Ny know who the killers of the world are.

It makes the sacrifice less abhorrent. Slightly less at the very least. By consuming this child, I'm sparing the world of an evil that will steal some of the little light that is left.

I take the child from Ny. It screams. I don't ask what its name was. I do not care and it will not need it where it is going anyway.

I look it in it's black eyes and begin the chant to summon Issy. When I've finished the first part of the chant, I scratch one of my claws across the child's throat. Its blood flows dark and fast.

I lap it up as fast as my tongue will let me. The blood is good. It tastes like sweet chocolate.

Ny looks away from me in disgust. I don't know why he's so disgusted as he's done worse himself.

My jaw popped as it dislocated to accommodate my new meal. The child's neck was easy to bite through. I swallowed the head in one fell swoop. Now I just had to eat the rest of the body.

It didn't take me long to dismember the body and stuff the rest of it down my throat.

I almost felt bad for how good the child tasted. Almost.

Something in my stomach heaved. I vomited up most of the child. Black foamy blood fell to the ground from my lips.

My chest hurt.

I fell to my knees.

A thick ropey stream of black liquid shot from my mouth.

It began to bubble and stream up in ribbons that began to weave into the form of a muscular woman.

Istasha's eyes glowed a deep black. Her rumbling voice emanated from the center of her throat.

"Hello sister, why have you called me?"

"We wish to cause chaos Issy."

Her mouth opened in a sharp smile. I could see the teeth bristling from her gums.

"This is going to be fucking fun. I'm glad you called me."

I smiled at Issy.

"We have to go back to the surface. Ris, you're going to have to reform your body to get onto the surface."

"I fucking know that. Damn it! I hate this process."

"Just fucking do it, you sick little witch."

"Fucking fine."

I pulled my magic into the center of me and screamed as I felt my body begin to combust. It felt like every cell in me was on fire.

I fell backwards unable to support my own weight. I was vaguely surprised to find myself not lying on the rocky floor again.

My unseeing eyes saw the outline of Issy's face. I tried to say thank you to her for catching me but it only came out as a kind of mumble groan.

I didn't want her to get burned by the fire that consumed me. It wasn't right. It wasn't right. Damn it. I hope I didn't hurt a lovecraftian horror.

Istasha held me during the whole excruciating process of regenerating my body. She dealt with my ear splitting screams that would have left a normal person or being deaf and running from me.

Finally, finally it was over. I was exhausted. My body felt strangely pain free. I wasn't used to not being in pain. I was always in pain.

I heard Issy's voice in the distance.

"Rest sister. We will take you to our dimension to heal. You'll be alright." 


	15. Chapter 15-Waking the beasts

_I was born with an insatiable appetite for destruction._

I woke up to the sound of laughing that shook the ground below me. I was cradled in a warm goo?

My mind was fuzzy. I couldn't..I couldn't...Oh. I was in Issy. She likes to carry me inside her like a child. It makes her feel like she's keeping me as safe as possible. I feel safe inside her too. It makes me feel like I'm loved.

Possibly the only thing that loved me is with the woman who thinks of me as a broken wreck. To be fair to Hera, I am broken. I just don't like when people treat me that way. Treating me like a child is unacceptable. I am not a child. I never was.

Witches don't get to be children.

Even with my sisters, I was a creature of broken shards and harsh names.

I've always been the dark one even though my powers don't lend themselves easily to darkness. I guess fate can't always be ignored. Fate's funny like that. It's always there until you don't want it to be.

I never wanted my fate. An old witch that I met in edinburgh over two hundred years ago told me that I would always become a monster in the pursuit of vengeance. I didn't want what she said to be true. But it was. God, it was true. Just why did it have to hurt so much?

My body felt sore but surprisingly pain free. At least the pain was nowhere near my normal level. It was strange. It wasn't normal.

I was stirring and now I wanted out. I wanted to see where I was. We needed to finish the summonings.

I flexed my muscles and shoved. My left hand shot through the barrier surrounding me.

A sharp inhaled surrounded me. My body moved and I fell out of Issy. The ground beneath me squelched.

I shoved myself to my hands and knees. The ground below me resembled some kind of bloody flesh. It was sticky. I had a feeling that the blood was real. It was probably the blood of all those sacrifices that were given to the great old ones.

The world of the great old ones was significantly different than that of other more normal dimensions. If other dimensions can be considered normal that is.

Tentacles curled around my arms and lifted me to shaky legs. Ny's always been one of the more caring old ones. He actually cares about me. For reasons that I don't really understand.

I looked around at the old ones surrounding me. They all looked a bit worried. I don't know why they cared. I only summoned them to cause chaos with me. They're supposed to just be old gods that care about how many sacrifices they get. They shouldn't care about a random wendigo who also happens to be an ancient kitchen witch. I'm just a murderer. A murderer like so many other people and other supernaturals throughout history.

"We need to find Dhumin's mound."

"We know Ris. We're way ahead of you. Is found it in the place where blood was spilled to free our eldest brother."

"Are we going to have to contend with him?"

"No. We'd have issues if we had to."

"Thank the fucking gods."

"Are you thanking us?"

"Hell naw. You guys aren't gods to me no offense. You're more like my homicidal siblings."

"Good, we do not wish for you to see us as anything other than family."

"I guess it's good I've never seen you fuckers as anything more than family then."

Issy roared with laughter. Her inky hand slapped the sticky ground.

"You're hilarious for a little creature Ris."

"Thank you, I guess."

"It's a compliment, little one."

"Issy, we really do need to summon Yoggy, and Dhumin before any of the other gods catch on."

"Alright," she chuffed happily.

"I agree, small one." said both Lithy and Ny in unison.

"Come on Ny, teleport us to Southern England. We gotta go. We really don't want Aphrodite to catch on to us. She can be a real bitch if she doesn't get what she wants. And she is most definitely not on our side."

Ny nodded in the only way that an amorphous blob with tentacles really could. He bowed.

Tentacles shot out and wrapped themselves around everyone's left wrist.

The world twisted and shook around me. I fought to keep the bile in my stomach. Teleporting this many people at once has always been hard for Ny, not because he can't do it but because it makes it hard for him to keep the nausea away from all of us.

We landed on hard rocky ground. My bare feet hit the cobbles. They were cold. So cold below me.

Naturally, I shouted "shit" at the top of my lungs as I always do when presented with very cold things on my bare skin.

A warm tentacle was immediately stuffed into my mouth to keep me from being any louder than I already had been. I spat it out and drove a sharply pointed fist into the nearest part of Ny I could find. I felt him recoil in suprised pain.

Oh well. He'll learn not to treat me like a fucking child.

A dark hill rolled across the english landscape in front of me. Dhumin's mound. Fuck. Time to do some witchy shit then.

I stalked towards the mound shivering every time my feet touched the cold ground. It seems like I should like the cold, after all fire's what killed me.

I like the warmth. I love it. I need it. Even if it was responsible for my first death.

Fucking fine. I hated the cold but here goes.

Ny apparently had something against me being loud which was unfortunate because the spell required me to be loud.

I drew in a deep breath and screeched "Bogadh!" at the top of my lungs.

The mound in front of me roiled and shook. The earth flowed away from itself. I felt my honorary brother long before I saw him.

His head poked up from the earth. He was grumpy, I could sense that much. He was for sure going to be pissed at me. Oh, well. He won't give a shit once he learns why I summoned him. All of the elder gods like chaos. It's kind of their thing.

"Why have you summoned me bloodthirsty little one?"

"I need your help."

"What was worth disturbing my sleep?"

"It's time to fight again."

His mandibles clicked together in his version of a smile.

"Who else is coming besides everyone who is here?"

"We still need to summon Yoggy."

"Go ahead. You can summon him from here."

"I need humans to slaughter."

"I'll get them for you," Ny sighed dramatically.

He teleported away once again in a swirling mass of tentacles.

It only took a few minutes for him to return bearing humans to be the sacrifice to summon Yoggy.

As soon as he set them done of the earth, I was upon them rending and tearing flesh with my still extruding teeth.

The sweet taste of blood flooded my mouth once more. A tentacle wrapped itself around me and pulled me away from the bloody mass that was the remains of the humans.

I'd been so caught up in the slaughter that I hadn't even noticed Yoggy appear.

The interlocking orbs of light that made up the essence of him were hovering in front of me twitching excitedly.

He was just as eager for the coming battle as I was.

I didn't know then that he could read the pain in my soul. I didn't know that he was worried about the damage consuming me.

I didn't know he gave a shit. 


	16. Chapter16-Reverie

_Because it makes the pain go away_

The wounds on my face still sluggishly bled blood that was such a dark red it looked black on my fingertips. The color almost reminded me of Conlaed's fur. 

I looked insane. And I was.

All I wanted was for the world to burn. I didn't care how many people it took or how much I had to sacrifice. I just wanted the world to fucking burn.

Because then maybe my heart wouldn't hurt so much. It would never have made sense to someone who didn't have the blood of monsters in them.

We reveled in the slaughter. It brought our souls to life and made them shudder with ecstasy.

Maybe it will take the pain away. Vodka won't. Not anymore. Not after the way I abused it for so long. Still do actually. Still do.

In a different life, maybe I could have been Hera's wife. Who really knows though? The humans are so strange when it comes to sexuality. They are sensitive when it comes to a lot of things actually. It's amazing how willing they are to kill over a few minor differences such as sexuality or the color of one's skin.

It doesn't matter anymore. I will never be Hera's woman. Not when she has proven that she will never see me as anything more than a broken wreck.

I was going to burn the world because of a single woman. I knew perfectly well that I was petty as fuck. No one ever claimed that I wasn't.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like a badass surrounded by my found family of lovecraftian horrors. I felt like I could take on the world. And it didn't matter what I had to pay. I was going to burn the world no matter what it took.

I motioned to Ny. He formed a portal with his tentacles to New York City. It was a large population center and a good place to start the destruction. I'd garner attention fairly quickly that way too. Which was exactly what I wanted.

I let my claws breach the skin of my fingertips. They wanted blood. My sharp teeth still extruded from my bleeding gums. They protruded at all angles. The soul-deep within me was calling for blood. It needed it desperately. I craved blood.

I strode through the portal with a bloody grin adorning my face. Istasha, Yog-Sothoth, Aylith, and Nyogtha following close behind me. A wicked smile revealed Issy's ink-stained teeth that were excited to rend flesh from bodies.

The cool winter air caressed my skin. I felt it only as a slight draft. I was too heated for war to feel anything else.

The humans began screaming as the slaughter commenced. I felt only the tear of flesh beneath my teeth and claws. I never once used my craft. I couldn't have anyone knowing that I was a witch too. I was already drawing enough trouble with this attack.

The slaughter went on for hours. We did actually encounter resistance which surprised me.

The bullet that tore through my chest did little more than make me angry. I lept for the poor sod that'd shot me. My teeth clacked shut around his throat. His blood was sweet.

I kept on killing and ripping. Unaware that the battle was over, Unaware that the humans I was attacking were already dead.

A strong inky arm ripped me from the corpse of a human that I had half devoured. My crazed eyes locked on to Issy. She slapped me across the face.

"They are already dead. You killed them all Ris."

I struggled in her grip, desperate for more blood.

"Fucking stop! It's over. You're done."

I shook my head trying to clear the bloodlust haze from my brain. My eyes cleared back to their normal orange-red color. Istasha breathed a sigh of relief.

"We need to get out of here before the humans come back with bigger guns that can hurt Lith."

"Okay."

"We need you to create the portal."

"What? Why can't Ny do it?"

"He was wounded. We all know that you're capable of it, kitchen witch."

"Fine. Stand back."

The horrors around me complied.

I sank my teeth into my palm. The pain was sharp and grounding. I walked over the rubble and let the blood drip from my hand to form a spattered triangle on the ground.

I chanted low under my breath, ignoring the blood that slid from my nose.

The portal opened with a rumble that felt like it was going to tear me to pieces from the inside out.

Issy looked at me worriedly but I screamed for them to run through as I couldn't hold the portal forever. It would literally kill me if I did that. But they had no reason to know about that.

I pushed off of the rubble and stumbled through my own portal. I crashed onto my knees as soon as I was through. I let the energy warping the foundation of my being go.

The portal snapped closed. I inhaled sharply. I fought the instinct to clutch my chest to hide the pain. I didn't need any elder gods worrying about me. That's not what they were here for after all. They were just here to help me burn the world.

Surprisingly, the weight in my chest was lessened. I felt like I could at least somewhat breathe.

I let out a raucous scream of joy. The elder gods around me looked startled. I didn't give a shit. I felt better. I felt alive. That was the only important thing here. I could breathe. I could fucking breathe.

I finally knew what I had to do in order to be able to breathe. All I had to do was burn the world around me and watch as humans and other supernaturals died in the flames.

If I had to burn the world to be able to fucking breathe then you could be damn sure that I was going to burn the fucking world to its knees. 


	17. Chapter 17-Wonderful Hatred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is trash and I have no regrets. Enjoy the sex scene at the end that needs editing badly.   
> :)
> 
> -Lethe

_Do I still taste of war?_

_Can you feel the battles on my skin_

_Stitched across my back?_

_Am I still rebuilding_

_Bone by fragile bone?_

I should have known that I was going too far when some of the most violent elder gods in existence were the ones who had to hold me back. They were holding me back from the precipice of losing myself in the violence. But I didn't want them too. I wanted them to let me go. I wanted them to let me fall.

Everyday, we would attack a new city and slaughter everyone we came into contact with. So far no one had been able to stop us.

None of us bothered with any form of bathing. It was just useless when you were going to be recovered in blood and viscera again in a few paltry hours.

By now, I looked to be entirely covered in the blood of humans. So much so that I probably would have smelled human to a vampire or werewolf. Yes, they both exist. They are just two species who happen to be particularly careless with hiding their existence from the humans. Most werewolves have this fool idea that they can coexist peacefully with the humans. They are fucking idiots.

The humans have this wonderful hatred within them. It allows them to cause so many wars. They cause so much pain. Why? Because they hate anything different, anything that they do not understand, or even anything that they simply do not like. It's amazing.

Sometimes I think that humans have an even greater capacity for hatred than most supernaturals. Which, I find hilarious of course as we are the ones with the most fearsome evolutionary adaptations.

Hatred really is a wonderful thing. It can keep you going long after everything else has failed. It lasts far longer than love or joy or happiness. It's the burning in your heart that gives you a purpose to stay alive.

I suppose you could say I've been at war my entire life. I've never had a chance to be a truly peaceful witch. My existence has always been fraught with pain, secrecy, and loss.

It's left me with scars. I hate humans for one. I'm still confused about Mike. My instincts made me feel safe with him. They should not have done that. Humans were the ones who murdered my sisters after all. I should not be comfortable with them.

It's the humans' fault that I'm a wendigo. A native american man somehow managed to trap me in a cave alone about one hundred and fifty years ago. He tortured me for days. Wounding me, and starving me until I lost my sanity enough to consume the corpse of an american soldier that he'd let rot in the corner of the cave.

Caves still make me nervous. I can feel the pain of what he did to me. Even though it happened so long ago. It still haunts me.

I can still feel the drag of the knife cleaving through my skin. The scars from that encounter are long gone from my body but they are still there on my nerves. I can still feel every little stroke of his whip as it tore my back to shreds.

He carved my fucking face off and ate it in front of me. He never told me his name. I hate him for what he did to me. I hate him so fucking much.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate native americans any more than I hate any other kinds of human beings. I just hate him.

I hate all humans. I've learned not to care that it tears me apart. Destruction is going to be my legacy. Death is all that is left of me.

I licked my lips tasting the blood of the humans that I've killed. It's rotten. It burns me.

Humans are only good for food for so long before their flesh starts to burn just as much as a normal human.

Strong inky arms wound themselves around me from behind. Istasha.

"You're thinking too much."

"Yeah, probably."

"Want me to fix that?"

"What the fuck are you suggesting Issy?"

"I'm suggesting that I fix your little overthinking problem."

"But I don't think of you that way."

"You don't have to."

"Issy, you're family to me, you're not my lover."

"The two don't have to be mutually exclusive, Ris."

"You're really fucking open about this aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. You need comforting. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to comfort you. We elder gods don't have the same moral hang ups that you mortals do."

"I'm not really a mortal but I guess you're right with the whole moral hang ups thing."

"So are you willing to let me comfort you Ris?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Black lips crashed into my own. I suppose the good thing about kissing Istasha is that her skin won't be torn by my wendigo teeth. I can kiss her and not have to worry about it.

I fought for dominance of the kiss but instantly lost to the stronger and more powerful woman. I sighed and melted against her.

Issy's hand crept their way down to my ass and squeezed. She smiled against my mouth.

"Let's take this to a more comfortable place shall we?"

Unable to really respond coherently with words, I nodded.

Dark tendrils wrapped around me. They twisted and writhed. Finally, they fell away leaving me in a room furnished in velvet the same color as her ink-like body.

Shining hands peel blood-stained garments from my quivering body. I was left bare in front of the woman whom I had seen as my sister. But now, now things were different

I was going to let her fuck me. And for what? Just so I could forget about fucking Hera. God, how I wanted to burn that little bitch for thinking that she's better than me.

Istasha pulled me back out of my thoughts with a bruising kiss. I gasped in surprise. She was treating me like she actually gave a damn which surprised me. Most of the people I've had sex with were just the fuck and go type.

She kissed down my neck stopping to suck on the junction of my neck and shoulder no doubt leaving a massive hickey. I couldn't help the shaky gasps that escaped my throat whether I wanted them to or not.

I felt Issy smile wolfishly against my throat at my timid moans. She moved down to lavish her attention on my chest.

It had truly been too long since I'd last had sex. I nearly screamed when Issy engulfed one of my nipples in her mouth. It felt so fucking good. I was starting to feel good. She pulled roughly at my other nipple sending sparks of light pain through me that only heightened my pleasure.

Issy kissed down my chest and buried her face between my legs. I screamed in pleasure, unable to contain myself. It had been so long. I usually don't have sex during the last part of my cycle of death because my body hurts so fucking much.

It didn't take long before I was moaning my release on Istasha's face. She slid up my body to plant a kiss on my lips. I could taste myself as well as the tang of human blood. I smiled against her lips.

"Feel better little one?"

"Yes, thank you Issy."

I laid bonelessly on her bed. I didn't really want to move. I felt good for once. Why the fuck would I want to move? I was comfortable.

But fuck I missed Conlaed. Even though I'd only known the cat for a few months he was the one thing in my life that brought me joy.

I needed to get him back. He was everything to me. 


	18. Chapter 18-Empty Promises

(Hera's POV)

 _I may be heartless, but you're naive_.

God, what have I done? Saoirse is on some kind of rampage through the world. I feel like I'm somehow responsible but I don't really know why. Why would she do this? She keeps showing up with a band of weird creatures that have unearthly powers. Powers that no supernatural has ever had.

Saoirse looks different on the TV footage. She doesn't look like she did the last time I saw her. Her teeth are still protruding from her mouth in a way that looks like it hurts like a motherfucker. But her eyes, God, they look crazed. It almost looks like she's missing something vital in her soul. 

She broke her unspoken promise to me as soon as she left. I should have known that she would leave if she heard any of Mike and I's conversation. We shouldn't have had that conversation where she would have been able to hear us.

I wish I could sense what was going on in that head of hers but all that I could sense was her overwhelming pain. Something broke her. It's making her react like a wounded animal.

"Fuck!", I shouted alone in my house with Conlaed. She needed the damn cat. How could I have been so foolish? The fucking thing is her soul keeper. The little wendigo somehow cast a soul keeper spell. I've got no fucking clue about how she did that but it's the situation.

A soul keeper is essentially an animal or object that a magic-user can anchor their soul into in order to keep themselves from losing their sanity or sense of self whilst using dark magic.

I just want to know how the hell a wendigo is managing to perform fucking black magic. I thought that only witches and demons could perform it with any degree of success.

But more urgent of course are these attacks that keep happening. I can't let them continue. The humans haven't been very successful at all in stopping them. I've got to find a way to use my oracle abilities to prevent more deaths.

I've reviewed the TV footage several times and all I could come up with was that Saoirse was having to be pulled back from slaughtering humans nearly every single time by a woman who seemed to be made of ink.

Maybe if I could figure out who or what the other creatures were then I could do something. However, right now I am at a loss as to their identity. I have no fucking idea. And that scares the shit out of me.

I just know that I have to do something. Something needs to be done. I don't know what through.

I paced around my kitchen table aimlessly hoping that I'd eventually figure something out.

Conlaed meowed at me from his cage. Then it struck me. I had to get the fucking cat back to Saoirse somehow.

I'll have to get past those other creature things alive with the cat. I have no clue how I'm going to do that. No fucking clue.

Those things, they are massive. They are like nothing I have seen before. Only two of them even remotely resemble a humanoid figure.

But I have to go. I owe Saoirse that. I need to stop her from continuing this massacre. It's pointless.

She's lashing out like a wounded animal. I saw some good in her. I want to bring back the woman with a fiery temper and flashing eyes who challenges everything I say.

I need to get her back. God, I want her back. I want to get to know her better. I want to help her. I want her to be mine.

I don't know where these feelings came from but I will not deny them. I learned the value of feelings long ago.

I gathered the cat into my arms and set off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a chapter from Hera's POV. Hope you enjoy!


	19. Chapter 19-Crash, burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here , have a filler chapter that I hate but am going to post anyway. This guy is going to be heavily edited when I edit this book. So don't count on it staying the same. The title of the chapter refers to Saoirse's sanity by the way. All of my chapter titles have meaning for the story.

_Broken girl;_

_Tell me what it's like to burn._

I sat on the edge of Istasha's bed naked. I'd enjoyed what we'd done. I just didn't understand why she would think that I was worth anything. My body wasn't even desirable. I was covered with thick ropey scars and my bones stuck out where the muscle fibers were thinner.

Black tattoos and bloodstains stuck out against the sickly paleness of my skin. The tattoos covered the left side of my body up to my neck.

I really wasn't anything beautiful. I was probably just the nearest thing to another humanoid thing for Issy to fuck. I highly doubt she gave a shit about me anymore. Not since everyone I had begun to care about figured out how much of a fucking monster I had become.

No one truly gives a shit about me anyway. I'd hoped that Hera wound care. But no. I'm just a wounded animal to her. Just an animal. Just an animal.

I stood and pulled my tattered clothing back onto my body. My joints popped and protested at the motion.

Sighing, I trudged out of the lavishly furnished room. I realized with shock that my teeth had finally retracted. Well, at least I don't have to worry about the fucking things getting in the way. Don't get me wrong, they come in handy more often than not but they do cause me a fair bit of pain when they refuse to retract.

I bit my hand hard enough to draw blood. Issy was nowhere to be found so I'd have to make my own portal again. I had no intention of letting them see just how much summoning a portal took out of me. I didn't want to look weak in front of any of them. I couldn't look weak in front of them. I just couldn't.

All my life weakness has been frowned upon. Even by the witches in my coven. Weakness got you killed. Weakness got your sisters burned at the stake.

I force the portal open with a groan. It's ragged at the edges and spurting energy. No doubt it will be painful to go through. Everything else in my life is painful so what else is new?

I ran through the portal as fast as my pained body could manage before collapsing on the other side alone. All alone. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was alone. At least no one saw my weakness. Hera had already seen my weakness. God, why was I thinking of that fucking woman?

You hate her! You hate her! I screamed to myself. I was so fucking desperate to forget about her that I forgot to look around me before curling up into the fetal position and letting my emotions overwhelm me.

A sharp kick landed right over my kidney and I gasped in shock. I rolled over shoving myself to my feet and panting raggedly to look up at the human boy who'd kicked me.

My eyes glowed a putrid scarlet. The pitiful little boy scampered back fear begin to take over his body like it should have the moment he saw me.

"You should have left the second you fucking saw me."

"Who are you bitch?"

"Your death as cliche as that sounds ."

The foolish child then tried to scramble away from me. I lept at him and easily pinned his fragile body to the ground.

"Your parents should have raised you better you little bastard."

He screamed. His breath smelled of day-old whiskey and semen. I crinkled up my nose in disgust. Mine probably didn't smell any better considering that I eat humans for food. But the smell of semen is always really fucking disgusting. I digress. Murder is always much better than talking.

I ripped the boy's throat from his neck and stuffed it into my mouth. It tasted bad. Oh, well. Flesh is flesh no matter where it comes from.

I left the rest of his worthless carcass where it fell. The blood trail that I left behind didn't really matter to me. I was always going to end up being spotted by the humans. It's hard being stealthy when you don't even look that much like a human without a glamour.

Glamours take so much fucking work and blood to maintain. I'm fucking tired of maintaining mine. I guess I'll keep the damn thing up though. It's a pain in the ass but it will keep the rest of the supernatural community from figuring out exactly what I am. They are bound to be trying to figure out what the fuck I am. They probably see me as a threat, and they would be correct in that assumption.

The creatures of the supernatural world will want to survive. And I can not let them.

I am a supernatural creature true. But that doesn't mean that I give a shit about the community as a whole.

Every single person I care about who is a supernatural is dead. Except Hera. But she doesn't count. I'm going to tear her limb from limb myself.

The only creature in this godforsaken planet that I care about is Conlaed. I'm going to burn that bitch Hera for taking him from me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my shit. Hope you guys are enjoying reading this.   
> -Lethe


	20. Chapter 20-Inferno

_I will take what is mine with fire and blood._

I need my fucking cat. I need to make sure that he doesn't get caught up in any of the bloody massacres that are sweeping this planet. He's the one thing that I value.

The Lovecraftian horrors will be perfectly fine. They can just retreat back to their own dimension whenever they chose. I'm not worried about them at all. They are cosmic entities after all. If my destruction hurts them, well then they have bigger problems to worry about.

I may treat them like a found family but I could I would not hesitate to destroy them. I'm sure the feeling is mutual.

Friendship is not really a common thing among different species in the supernatural community. We tend to either hide or war with each other. Of course all whilst dodging humans. The annoying pests that they are.

Most of us also tend to be very territorial. Like me. I'm very possessive of the people and things that are mine. Mostly because they are fucking mine.

Just like Conlaed is fucking mine. I love him so fucking much. He's mine. All mine.

I am willing to do anything to take what's mine. Hera better be fucking ready.

I stalk through the pitiful little human town that I accidentally teleported myself to in order to find something I can use to cast spells. I need to summon my grimoire.

A bakery comes into view after a few minutes of walking. I slam my fist into the glass door and open it from the inside. None of the humans who are wandering around the town pay any attention to me. Probably out of fear. Smart of them.

The bakery is small but it will do. I grab the ingredients I can find and begin pour sigils onto the ground. It's most definitely not how my powers were meant to be used but it's how I use them and anyone who has an objection can go fuck themselves.

The floor looks like an art studio by the time I'm done drawing with food. Brightly color dyes embellish the jagged shapes of flour chocolate and poured out wine.

Time for the final step then.

I slashed my forearms with a kitchen knife and began my chant. I walked the lines of the shapes I'd formed on the floor.

A deep red glow slowly began to emanate from the sigils. A small tear in the fabric of reality began to form.

I reached inside and withdrew my beloved grimoire and my battle-axe which was a gift of my goddess-mother Keres.

I smiled a bloody sharp-toothed grin. Time for war. Time to get my fucking cat back.

I ripped another portal in reality and stepped through into the hospital I'd left.

A nurse who'd apparently been cleaning the room gaped at me. I despatched her with a quick swing of my axe. Her head almost rolled out the door. I stopped it of course. Can't let the humans know I'm here before they need to.

I roughly flung the head onto the bed. It landed with a soft splat. The soft mint of the room was now tainted with harsh redness of blood. It suited the room much better. Blood has always been beautiful to me. There's just always been something about how visceral it is that draws me to it. But then again blood also heralds my food source. It heralds living beings usually humans. Especially if the blood is red. Monsters don't bleed red. We bleed pretty much all other colors. Although the darker ones like me, we bleed black.

I took a deep breath and readied myself for battle. There must be some humans in this hospital who would fight back. Hera definitely will. She'll fight like a fucking hellcat I have no doubt.

The door opened smoothly. Someone must be taking decent care of this building.

A doctor turned to face me. His throat was slit before he could even get a word out. Goddamn. The reaction times on these humans are absolute shit.

I rolled my eyes as the nurse next to him screamed and tried to run. A quick swipe of my axe ended that plan. The lower half of her body remained standing for a few seconds before falling to the floor with the rest of her.

I slaughtered and tortured my way through the rest of the hospital looking for my fucking mate. But no one "knew" where she was. It's far more likely that no one wanted to tell the axe wielding red-eyed woman covered with blood where she was. Honestly, I'm impressed with their devotion that stretched even to where the humans would die for her. It's impressive. My mate is a bit more influential than I thought.

My sharp sense of smell picked up a scent that I recognized. A scent that I'd been craving. Conlaed.

I whirled around. Hera was standing behind me with my little cat in her arms. I sighed in relief. He looked good. She must have been taking good care of him.

"Conlaed! Come here buddy!" I called.

Hera refused to let him go even though he squirmed in her arms. She obviously wanted to trade him for something most likely her life. It was stupid of her to try to restrain a street cat against his will.

He clawed the shit out of her face and arm before leaping over to me to wind himself between my legs. He purred happily.

I looked up at Hera and my mouth opened in shock. Her blood wasn't the red of humans or even the light pinkish red of oracles. It was the same shocking gold that named her a goddess. Fuck. I was mated to fucking goddess? And she apparently didn't know. Shit! Shit! Shit!

I'll have to be very careful about how I fight her. If I fight her in the wrong way, well, I could draw out her powers. That would not be good. It would fucking suck, even with my witch and wendigo powers put together I can't stand against a goddess.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A little girl trying to play hero."

"Saoirse! You're not thinking rationally. You don't really want to do this. You don't have to express your pain this way. Taking your pain out on the human race won't solve anything."

"You're even stupider than I thought if you think that I'm trying to solve this. What if all I want is revenge?"

"Revenge won't heal the breaks inside of you."

"I know. I don't give a shit."

I sprang at my mate. She stumbled back and tripped over a piece of rubble cracking her head on the ground. I landed on top of her.

"What are you going to do now?" I snarled.

Her eyes were now glowing goddess gold. I tried to shove down the panic that was welling up within me. Shit. I'd triggered her powers.

Wisps of gold began to float in the air between us. They seeped into my skin.

Flames appeared in my peripheral vision. They slowly took over the rest of my sight until I could see was fire. Punishing fire. Avenging fire.

I screamed and threw myself off of Hera. I didn't feel my head crack against the hospital hallway's wall. I didn't feel the blood sliding down my face. I didn't feel anything. 


	21. Chapter 21-Screaming on the inside

_War is a slippery slope._

_What would you do?_

_Becomes-_

_What will you do?_

_Becomes-_

_My god, what have you done?_

_You meant so well._

I sat shaking there. Visions of what I'd done shook me to the core. I couldn't stop seeing them. All of the people that I'd killed. Hera's power was showing me the futures that could have been if I'd just let them stay alive.

I killed so many good people. I robbed the world of so much light. And for what? So that my dark godforsaken self could live? What use am I? All I'm good at is killing. It started out for a good cause. But I don't think even my murdered sisters would appreciate what I've done in their names. They would hate me for what I've done. But I don't really know how to do anything else and the one person that I was supposed to be able to have a relationship with would never want me.

She's so much better than I am stuck up and arrogant though she may be.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and snapped at it with my teeth. I couldn't tell who it was. All I could see was that fucking fire. Damned shit.

The hand went away. I let myself shake uncontrollably. I was vulnerable and it scared me. I fucking hate being vulnerable.

I spent hours there shaking. At some point, I think some humans came and beat me. I can feel the bruises on my skin. They make me feel like I'm real. I've been staring into the fire for so long I'm no longer sure whether or not I'm part of the fire.

It consumes you after a while. Even if you aren't actually being burned.

I have no idea how long I actually sat there before the fire finally vanished from my field of vision.

When it vanished, I felt strange not seeing it. It had begun to feel like home. Like a place I belonged. Even though it brought back my most horrific memories.

It took me a while to be able to think straight. By then I was ready for a drink. So I slashed my forearms with a claw and summoned several bottles of whiskey from my little pocket dimension. 

I bit my palm and summoned an even more ragged portal than usual. It was only big enough for me to shove my whiskey through and then crawl my panicky ass through.

I had no idea what was happening to me. It seemed like my body was panicking at the slightest little things now. The crackle of the portal snapping open made my hands shake and shudder.

I crawled through and collapsed in Istasha's arms. Somehow the inky elder goddess had known that I was coming to her. She always knows. I probably won't even have to tell her what I want her to do for me. 


	22. Chapter 22-Alone in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a SPREE!!!!! 

_Stumbling into solitude, Jacked up on the taste of self-destruction_

Glass shards cut into my hand. I didn't care. They just spilled my black blood onto the cement below me. It didn't matter whether I stained the concrete or not. It was just concrete.

I twisted the top off of another bottle of whiskey before taking a huge gulp. The fiery liquid burned on the way down. I didn't give a shit. I never gave a shit about anything whilst self-destructing. That's part of the beauty of self-destruction. You don't have to give a shit about anyone or anything. You just burn and that's it. That's all.

God! I'm so fucking stupid. Why the hell did I think that destroying the world was a good idea? Why did I think that it would lessen the pain of how Hera thinks of me?

If anything, I just proved her right. I proved to her that I am just a broken animal that needs fixing before anyone can approach it. Probably so that no one gets hurt.

That's foolhardy of her though. I've hurt so many people that I've lost track. I don't know what it's like to not hurt anyone anymore. It's kind of sad, isn't it? That I'm used to pain. I'm so fucking used to pain that the moment I cease being in pain I shove everyone as far away from me as possible so that I can go back to my ugly comfortable pain because I'm too fucking scared to heal.

It's better when I'm alone. I guess I was always meant to be here. If I'm alone I can't hurt anyone else. I can't eat anyone. I can't destroy anyone's life.

Maybe I can thwart the fates. Ha. I'd like to see them try to make me ruin people's lives now.

I know that I won't die. But if I can starve myself until I'm too weak to hurt anyone then maybe I can rid the world of the threat that is me.

It'll also help that I came in here already drunk. I won't be able to remember the way out. I had Istasha seal me in here and make it into an eternal dark maze in return for me setting her free from her prison forever. But because of this, I won't be able to escape now.

I'm willing to starve for eternity if it means I get to fix some of the mistakes that I've made.

But God, I'm so fucking hungry. It's been so long since I've had any food.

The pain is worth it. It reminds me that there is something still at least kind of human about me. It means that I'm not totally a monster. Even though I am.

I hope no one comes for me. This is no less than I deserve. I only wish that I could die.

Death will not come for those who are not worthy of it. 


	23. Chapter 23-They called her calamity

_The earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believed they were eternal._

(Hera's POV)

I have no idea what happened when Saoirse tackled me. Something golden almost like a mist was floating around us and seeping into her skin. It got her off of me though.

She jumped off of me and started screaming about fire. I really have no idea where she got the whole fire thing considering that there is and was no fire around her.

The mighty Saoirse Darroch looks pretty pathetic shaking in the corner of a hospital hallway. It's almost sad the way she looks. Almost as if something is haunting her. Most likely multiple somethings though.

There's something amusing about seeing someone so powerful and terrifying turned into a shaking sniveling baby. I couldn't help the smile that quirked up my lips. She's hurt me and so many other people just because she couldn't cope. She deserves this pain. It's the least she can bear in exchange for what she's done.

The woman is a walking disaster zone. She's the cause of the near destruction of most of the infrastructure of civilization as we know it. If she hadn't come looking for me. Well, I don't know if there would still be civilization left. I shouldn't have underestimated the sheer destructive power of a pissed off wendigo.

I still want to know where she got those creatures. They were even more destructive than she was. Although they seem to have stopped the destruction. I wonder if Saoirse called them off.

I was jolted out of my thoughts by the soft meow of a tomcat behind me. Conlaed. I scooped him up in my arms. I'd already forgiven him for scratching me. It wasn't his fault. Saoirse freaked him out.

I needed to get him to somewhere safe before she woke up. She didn't need him. She never did. She didn't deserve to have such a sweet little cat.

And he doesn't deserve to have to pine for her. I can see it every time he stares out the window of my safehouse in the ruins of Queens.

I strode out of the hospital confident that I was doing the right thing leaving the mental shattered woman on the floor of a bloodstained viscera filled hallway. 


	24. Chapter 24-I hate, I hate you, I hate me too

_You can't kill me_

_I'm not alive_

My fists hit the walls of my never-ending cage. It's been at least a month. I'm so damn hungry. My stomach feels like it's going to eat through the rest of me. But I've gotten pretty good at ignoring it.

Blood runs down the walls of the stone maze. I wish that for just a second I could see the sun and feel it on my face again. But it is not meant to be. I can never see the sun. Not again.   
If I leave this place I will hurt everyone around me. I'm just glad that Conlaed's not here. I refuse to let him suffer with me. He doesn't deserve that. No one deserves this except me. Only me. Me!

I sigh. Goddamn it! I've punched through yet another wall. My hand feels broken.

Oh, well. Not much I can do about that. I'm too weak to heal myself so that's not going to be happening.

I guess I gotta just keep on trekking. I finished my alcohol stash a long time ago. Withdrawal was hell. I had to quit cold turkey because I can't use my powers here. I made sure to have Issy lock them away so that I can never leave.

On one hand, I'm happy that she sealed my powers away but on the other, it's a fucking bitch! Especially when I want alcohol or drugs. God, what I wouldn't give for a nice hit of Molly right now. That bitch would make me forget my hunger.

I'm not going to be coherent much longer. I can tell. It's already getting more difficult to think straight.

I knew that it wouldn't work but I've tried to kill myself every possible way that I can in this fucking place. Slit throat. Cut wrists. Ripping heart out. Evisceration. Beheading. And so so many more. But none of them worked and I had to rip out the only thing that would grow back-my claws-to essentially staple my own head back onto my neck so that I didn't have to carry it. None of the silenced the hunger in me. Not even when I ripped out my stomach.

Eventually, the wendigo will take over and I'm not sure how much of me will be left. All I will be is my wendigo. That will be the sum of me.

I've always hated my wendigo. Sure, she's come in handy. I hate myself. I know that now. I've always hated myself and that's why I've done all of this. To punish myself.

I hate Hera too. If she and Mike had just let me die then not of this shit would have even happened. None of it.

My nose crinkled. I smelled something. I rushed towards it. Not even noticing that my teeth and claws were extending. Or that I was skittering on the walls and ceiling like a wendigo. Not a witch. Fuck. Don't wanna be a wendigo. Fuck. Wendigo.

Smells good. Gotta go check it out. Need food lots. Food. Food. Food. Food. Need it. Need it lots. Food good. 


	25. Chapter 25-Guilt

_We burn in dreams._

I thought I was doing the right thing. I don't know what to do anymore. Watching that little cat made me reconsider. He feels her pain. I'm sure of it. Wherever she is, she's going through hell. And I'm not sure there will be anything left of her to save if Conlaed's behavior is anything to go by.

He's been crawling on the ceiling. I don't know what that means. I don't know why he's doing it. The main thing that I know is that he will only eat raw meat now.

It's been months. Conlaed isn't getting any better. It hurts so fucking much to see an animal suffer because of something I've done. Don't get me wrong though. I never would have save Saoirse for herself. Not anymore. But I can't let Conlaed be hurt by her anymore. Not anymore.

I have to find a way to break their soul bond. It might be the only way to save the little cat. He means far more to me than Saoirse ever will. I cannot love someone who would kill so many innocents for little to no reason. I can't. Even though I feel a draw to her.

Conlaed is a raging beast now. I have to keep him locked in a room now and just shove meat under the door. He'll try to eat me if I come near him.

I need to figure out what those creatures with Saoirse were. Maybe they will know of a way to break this forsaken soul bond. They also might know where she is.

I've done a lot of research. It's taken me longer than I care to admit but I've finally figured it out. I found the answer in the writings of HP Lovecraft of all places. It looks like he was right about the existence of creatures beyond our comprehension.

Although until a few years ago, I didn't think the supernatural was real at all. And then I met my first wendigo.

I want this feeling to stop. I want it to stop. What is it? Guilt? I have no room for guilt. There is no place for guilt in my world. No place for it.

My control is my power. It is my strength. I can not lose it. 


	26. Chapter 26-The monster in the maze

_You don't get to die_

_And be the same_

_You come back,_

_But you come wrong._

_This is the price you pay_

_For resurrection_

Food. Food. Food! Need it. We need it. We need it. Everything comes down to food.

Click. Clack.

Too long too long too long too long too long too long too long too long too long!

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

NEED MEAT!

My teeth sank into my own forearm tearing and rending. I chewed and swallowed. My own flesh did next to nothing to sate the burning inside of me.

I laughed hysterically.

Click. Clack. Click.

No one was ever going to come for me. No one. Not even death.

I should never have let myself be reborn.

FOOD! Need it!

I scrabbled up the walls and ran for as long as I could on the ceiling.

This was my domain now. My maze of blood and doom and putrid flesh.

Mine!

Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The sound of claws on stone is hypnotizing. My claws on stone.

My head cocks to the side. Eyes locked on a spider. I pounce. Its flesh sates me for as long as it takes to swallow.

Click. Clack. Clack. Clack. Click.

I clawed at the walls desperately. Not caring that I was literally destroying my hands until they were little more than mangled messes.

Click. Click.

A noise sounded behind me.

I turned and snarled before resuming my impossible task.

Click. Clack.

Foodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfood.

Click. Click. Click.

Clack. 


	27. Chapter 27-Lucid Suffering

_We're all killers._

_We've all killed parts of ourselves to survive._

_We've all got blood on our hands._

_Something somewhere had to die so that we could stay alive._

I sat on the floor in a pool of blood rocking myself. I'd tired myself out scrambling all over the walls and ceilings of the never-ending maze.

In a rare moment of lucidity, I stood up and fixed my shirt around my small breasts. They've always been small but they've gotten even smaller since I've been so hungry. My body ate up all the fat tissue it could without hurting itself. It's left me looking anorexic and devoid of all muscle tissue.

I look like the monster I am now. I know that even though I don't look that strong my wendigo genes make me superhumanly strong. Hell, I could bench press a car if I wanted to.

I laughed at myself. It's not like I could even find a car to bench press here. There's nothing but stone walls, spiders, the occasional mouse and my own blood that spatters the floor for miles.

I'm losing myself here. I'm killing the parts of me that I no longer need in order to survive. And I realize that the more time I spend here, the less I care. The less it matters.

The witch part of me is slowly dying in a cage and that doesn't mean that I'm being redeemed by any stretch of the word. This suffering is not redemption. It's not absolution. This suffering is freedom.

There is nothing. Fucking nothing. I am nothing for the first time in my life and it is wonderful. I am nothing. I am beholden to no one and nothing. I am as free as I'll ever be. I don't know how I could be freer than this. 


	28. Chapter 28-In blood, my legacy lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done with the super short chapters! Yay! This chapter is much longer and we finally start to get to the main arc of the story. 
> 
> -Lethe
> 
> Don't forget to comment and give kudos if you liked it!

_You convinced yourself that this was necessary,_

_This darkness_

_That it was the only way to survive_

_To grow stronger than those who hurt you._

_It consumed your mind, your heart, your soul._

_You let the power in,_

_Let it run in your every vein,_

_Let it make your eyes as black as night_

_But-_

_My darling don't lie to me._

_Don't tell me you didn't enjoy the fear in their eyes,_

_The screams of the crowd._

_When you welcomed in the dark,_

_Don't tell me it didn't feel so unbelievably right._

_Because in the end,_

_When that crown was placed on your head._

_You are a liar if you claim that it was necessary._

_No_

_This was your plan all along-_

_Wasn't it?_

(Hera's POV)

It's officially been two years since Saoirse's reign of terror over the world. She hasn't shown up since and things have been quiet. Mostly. There have been mysterious disappearances almost like there were before Saoirse came with those things. But there are differences this time. The abductions are more brutal. There is collateral damage this time. Babies have been brutally murdered. I'm not sure who is doing this or why but I feel bound to find out.

Maybe because I'm curious what could possibly be worse than Saoirse Darroch.

Speaking of Saoirse, Conlaed has finally gone quiet. It's worrying me. I don't know what it means. But I doubt that there is any way I could possibly find out.

It's time to do something. To finally find a way to fix all of this. The things that I could have prevented. I can't help but thinking that if I had only killed Saoirse when I had the fucking chance then things would be different. Maybe then the world wouldn't have bled buckets of blood for my sins.

But above everything else, I fucking hate that I understand her. I understand Saoirse Darroch. I sensed a pain in her so deep that it would rend most beings in half. I'm not saying for a single second that her pain excuses her actions. But I'm saying that I understand why she would lash out. Just like a wounded animal, she lashed out when the world hurt her because she could bear no more pain.

I don't fear her. Not anymore. If anything I pity her. I pity her because she let the darkness consume her until it became the only thing left. I fear that there may not be much left of her now. She was so fearsome. I wish that she was sane. She would have been a worthy soldier to stand by. She was a monster instead. I don't fear her. But I fear what made her. I fear what she may have let loose. I fear the thing that's here now beginning to wreak havoc.

I may be the only one who can or will do something. No one else seems to notice that anything is wrong. No one. I thought the humans would care more about their own people. I thought that the supernaturals would care too. But they don't. Both species seem all too willing to let the wool be pulled over their eyes. I seem to be the only one who is willing to see the painful hard truth.

I think I might have a way to gather some information. It's a long shot. I know that some supernatural races exist so why shouldn't ghosts? I'm an oracle. Saoirse was a wendigo. I met a witch and a fae a long time ago. I hope that ghosts exist. God, I hope with all my heart. I need ghosts to exist so that this will work. I need to be able to fix this. I have to be able to fix this. I have to. I should have killed her when I had the chance. And I didn't. So now I have to face up to the consequences of my actions.

I won't try to save Saoirse. There's no saving that woman. She's gone too far too many times. And once you're that infected by the darkness there's no going back. You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. I should have learned that when I was younger. Then none of this would have happened.

I pulled the crumpled paper from my pocket. It shook in my hands. I didn't want to do this. I had too. The words blurred on the paper but my lips formed them anyway.

Energy pulled at the center of my chest somewhere deep in the core of me. I gasped at the feeling. It was strange. It was something I'd never felt before. I hated it. I hate feeling like something else was controlling me. I hate being controlled.

A woman began to form in front of me. I panicked. I should have been specific. I should have asked for a certain ghost. I guess it's too late now. The ghost is already forming in front of me. They are real then. They're real? Ghosts are fucking real!

I danced a little jig of happiness. Ghosts were real! I could get my information. I had a chance to fix this mess. I had a fucking chance.

I turned to look at the ghost. Her hair was a shimmery blonde and she was dressed like someone from the sixteen hundreds. Her eyes looked somehow hard and soft at the same time. They were mesmerizing and I could get lost in them.

A slap to my face broke me from my sleep-deprived daydreaming. I looked at the ghost woman in shock.

"What the fuck do you want?" She spat.

"I want information."

"About what?"

"The thing that's hunting the humans."

"I have information. But I won't give it to you."

"Why not? Don't you want to save people?"

"I don't particularly care about the people who had my sisters and I brutally murdered without a real trial or reason."

"Your sisters?"

"Yes. Are you daft? I'm a goddamn witch. My sisters were witches. The humans slaughtered us like we were chattel! Like we were no better than the crops that they grew or the livestock that they slaughtered! What am I supposed to feel? Am I supposed to care that a few humans die when all they've done is kill anyone who was different? The human race is a blight on this earth and I will laugh as they fucking burn in hell!"

I stumbled back in shock at her vitriol. The ghost I'd summoned appeared to be not at all cooperative. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe I was wrong.

"I don't know what to say."

She laughed bitterly.

"No one ever knows what to say."

"I'm sorry I haven't asked you yet, but what's your name?"

"That I can tell you Oracle. My name is Guilia."

"Guilia. It suits you."

"I would say thank you but we're not that close. No one's that close with me anymore."

"What can I offer you in exchange for information since you don't want to give me any of it?"

"There's no way _you_ could have anything that I would want."

"You never know until you ask."

"Fine. Have you heard of a woman named Saoirse Darroch?"

"Yes. Yes, I have. I met her in fact. She's a horror show of a woman."

Guilia smiled sadly.

"Goddamn right. She's always been sharp edges. I've always been a little bit afraid of her. But that never stopped me from loving her. She's my sister after all."

"She's your sister?"

"Yeah. I raised her. She was always such a bloodthirsty little thing. I guess I should have tried to train it out of her. But I never did. Her bloodlust served our coven well. She protected us from so many bad things that we could have never beaten on our own. She bore the darkness so that we wouldn't have to. We shouldn't have made her do that. We shouldn't have! But we did. And it made her become something tainted. We started her on this path. And all I want is the chance to tell her that I'm sorry. To tell her that I'm sorry for what I made her and that what she became wasn't all her fault. But I'll never have that chance, will I? Because even though I'm a ghost and I've been searching through the ranks of the dead for hundreds of years I haven't found her. But somehow you have. It seems I've been looking in all the wrong places."

"Saoirse is alive. Or at least she was the last time I saw her godforsaken face."

"How the fuck is she alive? I felt her die! I felt her body burn to ash hundreds of years ago! I felt the coven bond burn!"

"I don't know how she's alive. All I know is that she's been killing for the past four hundred years. She's been killing humans and supernaturals alike. But mostly just humans and anyone who got in her way. Anyone who stopped her from accomplishing her goals and who knows how bloody those might be. That's all my abilities could glean from her."

"That's at least more than I knew before."

I felt her sadness like a crushing weight dropping on me.

"What's wrong?"

"She's my legacy you know. She's what I left to the world. It hurts to know that what I left to the world was darkness and blood. I failed so miserably at raising her. I should have been better. I should have kept the darkness from winning inside her. Then maybe my legacy would have been something to be proud of."

"You can't blame yourself too much. Saoirse made her own choices.

"That she did. She's always been fond of revenge that one. Even as a little witchling we called her the embodiment of karma because she was so good at karma spells even though she was technically just a kitchen witch."

"Wait", I interrupted, "Saoirse is a kitchen witch?"

"What else would she be?"

"She's a wendigo."

"What?"

The look on Guilia's face was stricken.

"How could she do that?"

"I don't know. I have no idea how she become a wendigo. All I know is that when she showed up at my hospital after a suicide attempt, I sensed her as a wendigo. Until now I had no idea that she was a witch."

"She..she..she tried to kill herself?"

"Yes. And it looks like she was really trying to make it stick too."

"I still don't know how she managed to survive all those years."

"I do."

"What?"

"I think she let the dark in and I think that she embraced it. I don't think that if you saw her now she would be the same person you remember. There's something in her that bleeds black. And I think she likes it too."

Guilia's face fell. She looked so sad. I wish that there was a way I could comfort the woman but she appeared to have used up most of her energy slapping me at the beginning of our encounter.

"Guilia, there is one thing I need from you. I need the information on the beast I seek. I gave you what you wanted. Now give me what I want before you disappear."

"You will not be able to face the thing you seek alone. She is older than most life in the universe. She is darker than Saoirse. You might even need Saoirse's help to face her. All I can tell you is her name. Perse."

Guilia nodded at me as she faded away. I was almost sad to see her go. She had been so much more helpful than I'd thought. I'd definitely learned a lot. Not just about the creature I was hunting but also about the woman I couldn't stop thinking about. And now I had a name for the creature.

Perse. 


	29. Perse

_ A chasm. A chasm was opening. Someone was summoning someone from this realm.  _

_ My eyes snapped open. I wanted out. Maybe now, I could get revenge on that little bitch Guilia. She’s the little witch who locked me in here last time along with her little kitchen witch who seemed to be serving as her hired muscle. Odd that. Kitchen witches are usually such docile uninteresting creatures.  _

_ But this one, I could almost taste the darkness in her. It bled off of her like an open wound. She had such potential. I only hope she managed to survive. She would make a good vessel or a pawn. It wasn’t that she had a terrible amount of power. It was just that she used it creatively. The smart little brat had managed to weaponize spells normally used for healing or making a cake. I particularly remember her salt bullets you could call them. Somehow they managed to rip through my skin. Normal human weapons don’t cut through my skin. That one would be a good slave to help me rip the human world to shreds.  _

_ Humans are so stubborn. They resist even though they have no possible hope of winning. I don’t understand. It’s just a futile effort. Those who fight die for nothing. Nothing at all.  _

_ I surged my energy forwards toward the gap. Freedom was within my grasp. And it felt so sweet. It was sweet. I felt the freshness of the human realm. My third eye slipped open. I let my body form.  _

_ I’ve missed having hair. It’s fun to mess with. _

_ My long white hair when tilted forward also serves the purpose of hiding my one deformity from human view. It hides the fact that I am not like them.  _

_ I will take them by storm. This world will not survive this.  _


	30. Maybe forever, maybe for a second

_ The ghosts inside are louder than music. _

(Hera’s POV)

I couldn’t get what Guilia said about Saoirse out my head. There were actual reasons for her hatred of humanity. But then why had she tolerated Mike? She’s such a confusing woman. I don’t know what to think about her half the time. She seems so sympathetic but at the same time she’s a merciless killer. 

I need to figure out more about this Perse creature. I need to figure out who she is. 

I don’t know what to do. For the first time in my life for as long as I can remember, I don’t know what to do. It feels terrible. 

I can’t feel this way. I can’t be useless. I can’t. I need to figure it out. It’s a long shot but maybe this Perse creature is also in some of those lovecraftian myths. God, I hope so. 

My local library was only a five minute walk away from my safehouse. Surprisingly, it’s one of the few things that wasn’t damaged by the ink woman when she attacked. Literally, it was the only building that she didn’t attack. I’ve got no clue why considering that she attacked nearly everything else including a nursery. 

I pulled on my boots, threw a jacket over my clothes and stepped out into the frigid air. The wind bit at my skin and ruffled my hair slightly. I was glad that I didn’t have long strands of hair to get blown into my face or caught on things. I patted the curly fluff of my hair lovingly. It was just so much easier for me to leave it in its natural state. 

The streets around me were hauntingly empty. At this time of day, it’s like a bomb has gone off and killed all the humans and living creatures. 

I walked faster. I don’t like being out in the open like this. It just feels unsafe. It feels wrong. 

Two uncomfortable minutes went by before I reached the safety of the library. A sigh of relief slipped through my lips. I could see Marta’s scarf strewn on the floor. Marta was the librarian. No one really knew how old she was or what species she was. No one cared either. 

Marta’s always been the one person that everyone could confide in. Everyone of every species seems to trust her for some reason. She has this aura that makes people trust her. 

I don’t really trust her though. Someone who has everyone else’s trust is not necessarily trustworthy themselves. I learned that lesson a long time ago. 

My mother, or the one that I remember at least, taught me that. She made sure I would never really trust anyone again. Courtesy of her gratuitous public humiliation. Mama was always good at making you feel like shit even when you didn’t really deserve it. 

Marta may be able to help me find information on Perse though. I need to know what I’m up against. I can’t fight something I know nothing about. 

That’s the first rule of getting into a battle: Know your enemy. I made the mistake of not learning as much about Saoirse as I could and it came back to bite me in the ass. I really fucking hate it when things come back to bite me in the fucking ass because it means that I didn’t do a good enough job. 

I yanked myself from my thoughts and proceeded with prowling through the stacks of books looking for the old woman. 

I found her in the mythology section. Fitting. That’s probably where I’d find the information I needed anyway. 

Marta greeted me happily. Her bright voice made me smile. She made the world a little bit less dark by being her normal self. That was the beauty of humans. They made the world less dark when they were good. 

“What do ya need, Queenie?”

“I still don’t know why you call me that. But anyway, I need information on a creature called Perse.”

Marta’s face went white. 

“What do you want with that foul creature?”

“I heard from a source that Perse was behind the recent human disappearances. And most likely also the dismemberments. I’m trying to stop them.”

“You can’t stop her. She’ll tear you apart. No offense, Queenie, but you don’t know what you’re doing when it comes to fighting and you have no army. She will.”

“How is she going to gain an army,Marta?”

“She’s a twisted version of the queen of the dead. The dead are her soldiers. They can’t fall.”

“So she has zombies.”

“No! Zombies can be put down. These can’t. They have no name so we called them the nameless ones.”

“Are the nameless ones all she has?” 

“No. Perse can spread her madness with her third eye. It’s rumoured that she was banished by a spirit witch during the salem witch trials by the witch who drew on the powers of her murdered sisters that Perse had tried to summon to kill her.” 

“I just have one question. Can her madness affect a wendigo?”

“No. Why are you asking about a wendigo? They are notoriously hard to work with.”

“Can wendigos stand against nameless ones?”

“I don’t know but probably.”

“Why are you asking so many questions about what a wendigo against Perse?” 

“I have a wendigo. She will probably help me.”

“Oh my.”

“You stand more of a chance then.” 

“Thank you so much for your information, Marta.”

“You’re welcome child. Istasha will see you out now. She will take you to your wendigo.”

I whirled. Istasha was one of the monsters who’d decimated earth. Why was she here with Marta?

The ink woman unfolded from the book in Marta’s hand. The light left Marta’s eyes and she fell to the floor. Blood leaked from every visible orifice of her body. Finally, she spoke in a voice that seemed to be made of smoke and grating stone. 

“I can not allow my sister to be let loose on the universe. Her hunger for destruction is too great. No amount of bloodshed will sate her.”

“Did you have to kill Marta?”

“It was the easiest option. Take comfort in the fact that the woman protected you until I ripped her brain to shreds. It was far easier than telling her what I wanted and having her argue with me.”

“Just take me to Saoirse. That’s what you came here to do isn’t it?” 

A strong hand closed around me and the world was swallowed up by black. 

I came to in a stone maze streaked with blood. Istasha was nowhere to be found. 

Saoirse was in front of me. Her body was pale and bloody. She looked emaciated. There were massive wounds covering her body and the majority of her skin and muscle appeared to be hanging on by a thread. 

I couldn’t stifle my gasp of shock. She looked so...so destroyed. I couldn’t help the pity in my gaze. I pitied the woman’s mental state. I pitied the fact that she had gone through so much mental anguish. 


	31. Pieces, broken and shattered

_ I wish you were still just a human to me. I don’t want to look at you and see poetry.  _

I hated the look in Hera’s eyes. I hated the pity. I hated that she saw me like this. And most of all I hated that when she placed her hand on my cheek I nuzzled into it. 

“Oh, Saoirse,” She sighed, “What have you done to yourself?”

“Don’t ask fucking stupid questions. I think it’s fucking obvious what I did and I don’t expect you to give a single shit considering that you think of me as a broken animal worth nothing more than how many people I can kill.”

“I’m sorry I made you think that I thought of you as an animal.”

“Fucking don’t! I can smell the lie on you. Your apologies mean jack shit to me.”

I scrambled backwards and up the wall onto the ceiling above her. Hiding in the only way my wendigo instincts knew how. 

“Saoirse! Get your bitch ass down from the fucking ceiling now before I drag it down!”

I scrabbled further away talons clicking on the stones. I heard a deep sigh from about five hundred yards behind me. I started moving faster. I had no doubt that Hera would make good on her threat. She usually did after all. Bitch meant what she said.

She started walking after me. Slowly. 

“I’m not here to fight you, I actually need your help.” 

“Why would you want my help?”

“You set something free when you summoned your lovecraftian horrors of friends. I need you to help me put her back.”

My eyes widened in horror. What had I done? I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to set anyone else free. Who the fuck did I set free? I dug my claws into the stone of the ceiling until my hands were buried in the hard stone. They weren’t coming out without help. Well, fuck. 

Hera quickly reached me. She sighed laughing under her breath at my predicament. 

“I had no idea that you were strong enough to bury your hands in stone like it’s water.”

“I’ve got no idea how the fuck I did this.”

“Neither do I. Seriously, I have no idea how the fuck you managed to sink yourself up to the wrists in stone.” 

“Uh, can you help me get out of here?” 

“I’m an oracle, not some kind of goddess.”

I had to hold myself back from telling Hera what she was. It wasn’t my place to tell her about her apparently secret powers. Plus, I had no real idea why her powers were dormant in the first place. I really didn’t want to stir a beast that I couldn’t control. That would make me a fool. 

“Well, I can’t get myself out of this. So I do need your fucking help. Even though I don’t really want it.”

“Aren’t you a witch too? Can’t you just melt yourself out?”

“How did you figure out that I was a witch? No one was supposed to know about that.” 

“I’m probably not supposed to tell you about this and you’ll probably freak out.”

“Just spit it out already.”

“I kind of might have summoned a witch named Guilia who might have been your mentor.” 

“You summoned my fucking mentor?” 

“Yes.”

“Why?”  
“I needed to know what I was facing.”

“So we’re back to referring to me as a what then huh?”

“Chill, I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about Perse.” 

“I freed Perse?”

“Yes, as far as I know what you freed was Perse.”

“Shit!”

Bad. This was bad. This was really really bad. Perse was contained last by Guila. I have no idea how to stop her. I doubt Guila will take kindly to me summoning her and spoiling her afterlife. Ha. Knowing her she’d probably drop kick my ass back to Salem and burn me alive herself. 

But first I needed to get out of this fucking stone if we were going to do anything. I thought for a second. Hera obviously had no idea the power she held. I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t need a rampaging high goddess on my ass. So I had to figure out a way to get the wards that kept me from using my powers gone. Hera would have to be able to do it obviously as I was melted into a stone ceiling tile. 

The maze was surrounded by a barrier of Issy’s power. If Hera herself were to cross it, then she might actually break it just by touching it directly and disrupting it. It wasn’t the best plan in the world. There were so many ways for it to backfire but hell, it was the only plan I had. 

“I have a plan to get me out of this so that we can get to planning.”

“Do tell.”

“There’s a barrier of magic around this place that prevents me from using my witchcraft. It will show up as a black inky trail. You need to walk your scrawny ass over it. That should disrupt the magic long enough for me to melt my way out of here. “

“Okay. Will it hurt me?”

“Probably. It shouldn’t be anything that you can’t handle though.”

“That’s comforting.” She snarked back at me.

“Get your ass moving if you want to get out of here before I get even more tempted to eat you.” 

  
  
  



	32. Locked doors and empty halls

_ I’m a strange kind of in-between thing, aren’t I?  _

_ Not at home with the dead nor the living.  _

(Hera’s POV)

I grew more and more disturbed the longer I walked through the maze-like cage that had been Saoirse’s home for two long years. 

Blood spattered the walls. Pieces of flesh were strewn willy nilly all over the place. 

I felt sick to my stomach to even think of it but the only place flesh could have come from was Saoirse. 

She looked like she hadn’t eaten in years. I didn’t want to think about it but she had been alone for two years. A part of me knew that. I knew that she’d ripped herself to shreds out of hunger. 

I just hope...I hope that she’s sane enough to help me. I need her to kill Perse’s minions. I can’t survive what she can and I can’t do this without her. I need her. Goddamn it, I need her.

The farther I traveled in Saoirse’s bloody domain the more the emptiness began to eat at me. How did she stand it? I was beginning to want to talk to myself just to hear something. She’d been here for two years. 

I began to run. I had to. It felt like something was following me even though I knew that the stone maze was empty except for her.

As I ran, I saw things that made me even more disturbed than before. Large chunks of bloody tissue coated with walls. Some of them looked like organs. 

I just hope that they weren’t Saoirse’s even though there was no one else in this place. They had to be hers. But if they were then how the hell was she still alive?

I ran faster and kept my eyes straight ahead. I didn’t want to see any more of the horror even though it soaked everything here. Even though I was drenched in it. Even though Saoirse was the horror of this place embodied. 

Finally, I hit an invisible wall. I screamed as something surged through me. I felt like I was burning. The burning didn’t stop. It kept going. 

Finally. Finally. Finally, it stopped and I crashed to the ground. I knew I had to get up and begin the long walk back. I didn’t want to. It hurt. Everything hurt. 

How used to pain was Saoirse? She seemed to think that I would be able to handle that with no problem. But it felt like I was dying. I never wanted to feel that again. Ever. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is the author here! My name is Lethe. Feel free to comment and tell me what you think! Comments keep me going. I have an account on Wattpad with the same name (The_Writing_Gremlin) if you want to check that out.  
> Love you guys and hope you enjoy!  
> -Lethe


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